Then Neither Can He
by Kerrys2Boys
Summary: Starsky is suspended in the wake of the trauma he has suffered at the hands of Detective Ryan Lancaster. Hutch is struggling to manage the emotional and psychological fallout that his friend is suffering. Starsky is off the streets, Ryan is still operational and Hutch is feeling the pressure of dealing with the aftermath of the evil that Ryan has brought into both of their lives.
1. Chapter 1

**This story continues on from If I Can't Have You.**

**Then Neither Can He**

**CHAPTER 1**

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Riley knew what the tall blond man beside him was going to do as soon as they walked into the squad room. As the doors slapped behind him and he threw his jacket across the chair he was already reaching for the telephone. This was a progression in the wrong direction – or would that make it a regression?

Either way or whatever the word for it was, Riley concluded, it was not good. Not a good sign at all. He hadn't even bothered with a coffee first to at least put up a bit of a pretense of being casual, nonchalant, unperturbed. Didn't even in fact wait to pull out the chair from the desk. In stead he'd just grabbed for the phone and started jabbing at the numbers.

The crease in his brow was deepening and he tapped anxiously on the side of the desk with his pencil. Next would be the hand rubbing across the bridge of his nose. If the phone didn't answer it would be a sworn oath. Riley was already fearing for the battered metal filing cabinet, its dents testimony to two weeks worth of frustrated phone communication between Hutch and his partner.

Yep, Riley thought, after two weeks he knew just about all Hutch's moves in the realm of phone communication etiquette with his out of action, suspended partner Starsky.

Likewise he knew his own place and what was best for him. Accordingly he was already mapping out his strategy. First and foremost - avoidance. That is what he needed now. It had not taken him long to get his part down pat. And so he moved away, put his head down and looked for all the world like he couldn't hear , see or feel the tension emanating from his new Trainer - Detective Sargent Ken Hutchinson. He had learned very quickly that it did not pay to be caught up in the fallout of everything that was off par between his superior and his "erstwhile " partner, David Starsky. And since Starsky's suspension by Captain Dobey more than two weeks ago, there was an awful lot off par between the two.

Coffee made just like he knew his superior preferred he edged over and placed in next to Hutch's elbow. Hutch half grunted in acknowledgement and then suddenly seeming aware that Riley was actually real and standing beside him, he softly mouthed a thanks and gave his trainee what was probably the beginnings of the thumbs up sign. Suddenly he jerked and listened and Riley surmised that the phone had picked up on the other end. Time for Riley to move and move fast.

Riley breathed out, relieved for his own sake that Starsky had answered this time. God knew the filing cabinet could not bear the brunt of one more dent. Hutch's fist just naturally seemed to find that same spot every time the phone had rung out at his partner's place. Riley pulled hard and yanked at the resisting battered and poorly aligned drawer- courtesy of one very angry blond Detective.

Paperwork, file, memo anything in his hand so that he could sit and appear engrossed was the name of the game. He glanced around and found others in the squad room also visibly steeling themselves for the blond's vented emotion, the telephone in his hand a red flag to all around him.

Everyone was trying but not succeeding to block out the one side of the conversation between the two partners as Hutch's tone became more agitated.

"It's well past nine at night. Why did you take so long to answer the damn phone?

A deep frown.

You know why…I told you I was going to check in and see how the session went for you today.

An agitated tap of the pencil.

You did go didn't you? Starsky? Starsk? Tell me you didn't miss it again –

Mouth drawn into thin line and frown deepening further.

OK …' K, good, Thank God…you know you just have to go through the motions –

A slight relaxation of tensed shoulders.

What? Come on that is just plain dumb. Just go to bed and forget about it will you? I can't – on shift till the morning and you don't need it anyway. Don't argue with me about this Starsk – Starsk –Starsky! You shouldn't be out drinking when you're still recovering.

Ah, you stupid …..stubborn….shit for brains "

Thumb and forefinger pressing hard into the bridge of his nose.

He looked up now and realized that although no one was in fact looking at him they had all heard him.

He slammed down into the chair and pulled over the typewriter, scraping it across the desktop so that Riley thought his teeth would clatter from the noise.

"Riley bring those damn files over we were looking at earlier will you. Let's get down to these reports."

Riley settled beside Hutch to begin the tedious process of report writing. He actually didn't mind doing reports at all but he picked up real quick that it was not cool Detective behavior to ever admit to enjoying report writing so he put on his dour face to match his Sargent's. Though he thought that Hutch's facial expression probably had more to do with his phone call to Starsky than the report in front of him.

He wanted to say something to Hutch that would be comradely and supportive like " Well, don't worry any more Hutch, he'll be in bed and getting plenty of rest like you want him to and now you can relax knowing that you've talked to him and he's ok."

But he didn't say it.

Still didn't think it was his place, or his right just yet .

Looking at the dented filing cabinet, he wasn't altogether sure that to say anything at all about Starsky would be in his best interests. The whole subject represented a minefield to him. He had already seen far too many casualties this week. A well intentioned query or comment to Hutch about Starsky could set off any of these dormant explosions.

Riley edged closer with the files and like the rest of them he relaxed again now that the last phone call for the night was over. Not the worst one they'd had this week and at least the rest of the night would not be punctuated by any more calls involving Starsky.

Well that is what he thought anyway.

oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOooo

Two or so hours later and Hutch was pulling the paper out of the typewriter with one exasperated yank. He smacked it down beside Riley and stretched out his long body putting his feet up on the desk.

"There! Finished. Can you run your eyes over that last one? I think that does it for the reports. We are actually on top of them for the first time in a week."

"Well Ken, there was an awful lot to catch up on if you remember." Riley smiled a little brazenly now , more confident with his own style of squad room smart talk.

"Well Riley that is why they call you boys in blue Rookies. We older guys wait for you kids to come along in training and mop up all that left over stuff for us. "

He laughed lightly now as he tapped Riley with a file.

"Seriously, Riley you've been a huge help in getting on top of all this mess. Unfortunately report writing is not something that – ahhh- either Starsky or I excel at. Getting Starsky to even sit long enough to string out a single paragraph is asking a lot of him."

"I know Ken, I've already figured that he is more of an action man and not a desk man".

"Well you've got that one right."

Just then the extension buzzed shrilly on Hutch's desk.

"Hutchinson ."

"Say, Hutch."

"'Huggy ? Late for you to be dropping me a social call. Must be well after eleven now. "

Hutch quickly picked up a sense of urgency in Huggy's voice.

"Yeah it's getting late and soon it might be too late. If you're not in the middle of something heavy at work right this minute it would be in your good partners best interests to high tail it down here as soon as you can."

"What the hell? He said he was going down there for a drink and a catch up with you when I spoke to him before, hasn't he gone home yet?"

"Nope he sure hasn't. But right about any minute now he's gonna be goin' out the door on the end of a big brute's flying fist. He's spoilin' for a fight Hutch and I think Mr. Bar Brute over there is gonna be happy to oblige him."

"Awwww…SH….IT Starsky!"

As the phone clanged in his ear and Huggy caught the angry yell from the other end and a mad scrambling sound he put his own phone piece down.

"Well,"

Huggy said to nobody in particular. No one was really paying him attention now as most of the patrons, scenting blood, were lining up for ring side seats in the imminent bar fight performance that Starsky was now setting up.

"Guess that means he's on his way down here then."

oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooO OOooo

Starsky had come into his bar less than two hours ago. One look at his face and Huggy knew he was in for it. Starsky had many faces and could slip from one end of the spectrum to the other in moments. In the last weeks Huggy couldn't recall seeing much variety in his friend's face – having all been variations on his black moods.

Tonight as Starsky pulled out a stool and bellied up to the bar rather than a table, Huggy caught not just blackness in his face but a flash of vibrant anger. Not a good combination in his curly haired friend and one that Huggy feared would do no better with when combined with liberal amounts of alcohol which Starsky was obviously intent of consuming. He had ordered a double straight up, bypassing his customary drink of choice, beer.

"So my man, how is the world of kickin' back and takin' it easy goin' for ya? Been getting' some zzz's in and restin' up like the doctor ordered?"

As soon as he'd said it he wanted to pull it back.

_Smart, real smart Hug, just rub it in. Rub in the sensitive issue of suspension from the force. Now you've asked for it._

Starsky didn't take too long on giving it.

"Shut the fuck up Huggy. Ain't no doctor's orders, just Dobey's. I ain't on any sick leave and ya know it. It's called suspension, also starts with an 's' but comes with no pay . And, I don't need no freakin' rest – I need to get back out on the streets and back into my life. "

"O….K…. Then let's try for 'how's the weather out your way?' been Starsky?"

Starsky just scowled and spun around on his stool taking in the small bar crowd and wiping his face with the back of his hand. The first double shot gone already.

He motioned to the bar girl for a second shot.

Huggy stood and watched him. He tried again.

"So how do you think that Riley guy is going to work out as a trainee? Nice kid but seems a little green to me. Hope Hutch hasn't got his hands full with him."

_Even worse Huggy, even worse._

Face it , he thought, no subject's safe here tonight.

_Go to the other end of the bar and leave him be._

But he couldn't. For Hutch's sake and his own sense of concern for the moody man in front of him, he would stand his ground and take whatever Mr. Cranky was going to hand out. And there would be plenty judging by Starsky's increasing agitation.

"Wouldn't know, haven't really talked to him – Hutch got put on nights with the kid and so we are not really shootin' the breeze together that much at the moment. Hutch seems to like the kid so….."

Huggy thought there was a layer of looking a little lost beneath the surface prickliness.

He ventured a little deeper – maybe the alcohol would loosen Starsky up enough to spill some of his pent up heat. Huggy thought that he sorely needed to decompress.

"So my man, how yare really? I'm gettin' the drift here that this late night visit to my bar and the way you are downing those drinks is sayin' that ya' not doin' so good. 'Sides that you sure don't look too damn happy right about now."

"Hey I didn't come here to talk about my feelings Huggy. Had plenty enough of that already. Just want to sit here and mellow out so keep those drinks comin' ….and put 'em on my tab will ya?"

"Ok Ok, I hear ya Curly. But if you need to talk you know where to find me. I'll be right here keepin' my eye on you."

….

…

An hour later Huggy thought that his friend was certainly starting to look mellow. He'd lost track of how many drinks he had put away and was starting to become concerned about Starsky's increasing level of inebriation. His concern heightened when he watched him stand up from his place at the bar and move over toward the pool table in the corner of the room.

A tall, thickly muscled man had been playing a game of solo pool while knocking back a few beers for the past hour or more. Huggy had been aware of him out to of the corner of his eye. He had seen the guy in his establishment before and for the most part he kept to himself.

Huggy watched Starsky saunter none to steadily over to the pool table where the big guy had recently put down his cue and headed to the john in the back of the bar. As soon as Starsky picked up the discarded cue and began placing the balls in position Huggy sensed the threat.

The john door banged and the man reappeared. Catching sight of Starsky he stalked over to the table , his big red face clouding.

"Hey you! What the hell do ya' think ya doing hey?"

Starsky barely registered him.

"I think it's fairly obvious don't ya? This is called a cue and this here is a pool table and I'm 'bout to play it so move away and give me some space will ya'?"

"You know I was playing a game there and just went to the john – see there's my drink still sitting there. Now why don't you move away from the table and go back to your spot in the corner before I use this cue stick in a way that won't feel to good to ya'"

The big man's voice was rising now and as it did Starsky merely shrugged his shoulders and continued with his setting up of the game.

"No that's not gonna happen ya see 'cos I feel like a game and I'm gonna have a game, now clear off - ya' puttin' me off my stride here."

The other bar patrons were starting to pay attention and some of the chatter and background din in the room quieted as focus was drawn to the two men at the pool table.

Huggy rolled his eyes and considered his options. No point in approaching Starsky – not in the mood he was in. The other guy wouldn't likely listen to him either.

He turned to his barmaid. She looked a little apprehensive too having sensed the atmosphere across the room.

" I think my fine establishment might be just about to get a hiding. Trust that curly headed idiot to put himself into this position. Gonna be trouble here soon – big trouble."

He lifted the phone –

"Time for a call to the Po-leeece station pronto. "

oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOooo

Riley held tight to the dashboard as Hutch veered wildly around the corner and accelerated down the last strip of road leading up to Huggy's Bar. For yet another time that night he had joined his senior for a call out but this time they were not so much cruising the streets as screaming down them. They'd made excellent time since Hutch had hauled him away from his desk less than five minutes earlier.

Hutch had thrown down the receiver, grabbled his jacket , patted his holster to check his gun and barked at his trainee.

"Riley, up now. Gotta go! "

"Ah Sir? Did we get a call out?"

"You could say that – Christ, what is HE doing? He's going to get himself killed."

Since the day he had got to know Ken Hutchinson a whole lot better when they had met down in Communications – Riley had come to know something for sure. Working with him was never without its moments. Especially when it involved his partner Starsky.

Riley trotted along behind the tall detective who was striding down the hallway toward the exit of the station, all the while cursing under his breath about how he was intending to kill his ex partner with his own bare hands if only he managed to stay alive for the event.

Riley barely got his door closed before Hutch revved the battered Ford and squealed out of the parking spot.

Hutch was yelling a lot and posing a lot of rhetorical and very colourful questions about his ex partner. But one look at the face next to him had Riley deciding instinctively that he needed to do two things.

Stay quiet and hang on tightly for the ride.

When Hutch was in this frame of mind it was better to lay low and wait for the storm to pass.

oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOooo

Hutch threw open the back door of Huggy's bar and heard Starsky before he saw him. Or rather, he heard the sound of Starsky's body at work before he saw him.

The thought of Starsky's tender flesh only just now healing being pummeled spurred him forward into the room.

Patrons were now clinging to each other and pulling back against the walls or their tables and Huggy was yelling at both men to break it up.

"You fuckin' prick – thinking ya' could take over my game and butt in - I'll fuckin' break your face open for that."

As Hutch took in the scene – the big man with the big mouth was picking himself up from the floor where Starsky had just put him with a blow and was now coming back at his opponent with refreshed rage and verbal threats.

Starsky was holding onto the corner of the pool table, clutching his side and breathing hard, blood was trickling out of his mouth and his own eyes were narrowed with violence and unspent aggression. Hutch took in the simmering violence but did not miss the unmistakeable signs of pain in his partner. His body could not handle an assault like this so soon after surgery.

The man launched himself at Starsky and grabbing him roughly by the neck and head he started to bring his knee up to Starsky's mid section. It was obvious that Starsky was not going to have the strength to pull back from the strike.

Hutch lunged and grabbed the big man from behind.

"No! Off him! Off him now! "

He grabbed the man's collar with one hand and his arm with the other and jerked him back and away from Starsky roughly.

Being taken by surprise from behind the man howled at the intervention and lost balance, crashing back into the nearby table.

Hutch took the opportunity to look at Starsky who was staggering to the side and looking murderously at his partner.

"Starsky stay back! Stay back. Huggy, Riley grab him now! Don't let him go till he calms down."

Hutch turned back to deal with the big man, anticipating that he would be next in the firing line.

"Who the fuck are you? Now get outta my way. I've got a head to beat in."

Hutch held up both hands toward the man in retreat.

"Just settle down now. It's over. Over. Keep your distance."

The man stood up tall now and advanced toward Hutch threateningly.

"Like hell buddy, now move or I'll move you"

Hutch didn't want to complicate matters by bringing his badge into the situation but if he had to he would. This guy was out for Starsky's blood and if he couldn't talk him down quickly the scene was going to get a whole lot uglier.

Starsky was straining in the grip of the two men and abusing them both and Hutch as well.

"You heard him Hutch. Let him go. This does not concern you – get out of here and leave us to it. We have a score to settle and don't need ya' in our way."

With both arms constrained now he aimed a knee at Riley's torso, and Riley deftly veered away his young face suffusing with red. He had no real idea how to handle this man and was acting purely on his training reflexes now. In reality he was highly intimidated by Hutch's partner.

Hutch continued to face off against the big man but threw over his shoulder.

"Shut up will you Starsky unless you want to end up in a cell tonight – both of you. Just calm it now."

"Riley cuff him if you have to . "

He heard a curse of indignation from Starsky and a growled threat at Riley.

"Just try it kid and see what happens."

Hutch was not taking his attention off the man who was still homing in toward Starsky with his eyes.

"What – so you're a damn cop? And you know this guy?"

"Look I don't want to bring the law into this right? Huggy here will let all this pass if you just pull your heads in now. If you don't then yeah, I'll have to restrain you both. Now I suggest you calm down and back away. "

"This moron here" he snarled at Starsky "has it coming to him. He started it and by God I'm gonna finish it. He wants a walloping'? I'm only to happy to give it to him – smart prick – taking over my game. Crazy son of a bitch if you ask me."

Hutch worked it now.

"Your right – yeah so right. He is crazy now." Hutch didn't want to think what looks he'd be getting from his friend right now but decided it would be worth it if he could bring this drama to a conclusion.

"Look I know this man and he's going through a tough time with his wife – things are really really bad at home for him you know. She's pushing on him way too hard and well – he's just – well you know how it is with men when their women give them a hard time. He's not in a good place right now. I'm just sorry you got to be on the receiving end of it. Real sorry."

The stormy face and tensed body position eased a little. The man uncurled his fists and coughed a bit.

"Well yeah – yeah – I can get that. I know I feel like beaten' the shit out of someone too when my woman gives me a hard time and we're not getting along."

Starsky let out an expletive and yelled.

"Hutch! What the fuck are you saying? What are you doing? Hutch? What is this crap? I'm gonna kill ya! Hutch! "

Hutch turned his back on Starsky now and walked a little closer to the other man.

"Listen to him – just _so full_ of anger. Wants to go for me too and he will try. That's how it is when women get to like this. It's tough on we guys isn't it? Real tough. But we have to stick together as buddies in times like this. He's hurting real bad and I just have to be there for him. Trying to keep him out of trouble - like now. Just till he gets though this rough spell. Its not easy, shit no, its damn hard."

The performance was hitting its mark and Hutch watched with relief as his singular audience was showing obvious signs of capitulation. He almost felt guilty with how the other guy was being humbled by his words until he realized that half of what he said was the truth anyway. It was damn hard keeping Starsky safe and out of trouble while he was still so angry about everything that had happened to him over the past weeks.

The man didn't resist now when Hutch helped straighten out his clothes and brushed him off. He drew him toward the far end of the bar and pulled out a stool.

"Here let me get you a beer – is that what your drinking? and indicated to Huggy's bemused waitress.

'Thanks for being understanding about all of this. Wouldn't want to see either of you end up in the slammer tonight just because my friend is not doing too well with his home life. God knows he has enough to sort out. Once the drink has worn off he'll feel terrible for what he's done here tonight."

"Well it's not that bad really – just a bar brawl that coulda' got outta hand but its all good now. I feel sorta bad now that I went for him. He does look kinda' in a bad way I guess. Noticed him earlier in the evening. Feels like he's lost something I guess."

Hutch handed him the beer and tapped the man knowingly on the shoulder. He lowered his voice, but doubted that the indignant noises Starsky was still making in the far corner of the room would allow him to hear what he said to the man.

"You're right there buddy – he feels like he has lost everything that is important to him. Fact is that no amount of fist throwing is going to help him until he works it all out himself you know?"

Taking a long swig of beer and cricking his neck the man gave Hutch a knowing look.

"Know what ya' mean. I'll leave ya' to sort out your friend and ah – hope he figures out his woman. Thanks for the beer."

As Hutch walked back to his still pinioned partner he realized that out of the two of the men he had just pulled apart, he had probably just dealt with the easier of the two.

Big boy back there was no match in comparison to what he was sure Starsky had waiting for him.

_Thing is buddy, you're not the only one who is feeling angry right now. What the hell are you trying to do to yourself?_

He was quietly furious about his partner's self- destructive behavior.

**Hey there readers...glad to be back with the second part of this story! I am still in Italy so it is hard to write and post - but will do my best to keep the story flowing until I leave for home. Thanks everyone for re-joining the saga of If I Can't Have You...Then Neither Can He.**

**Kerry**


	2. Chapter 2

oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOooo

**Then Neither Can He**

**Chapter 2**

.

.

It had taken a while but somehow Hutch, with Huggy's and Riley's help had managed to get the belligerent and semi drunk Starsky out of the bar and well clear of his still smarting opponent without the situation degenerating further. Hutch ensured that they gave the now quiet man a wide berth as they jostled Starsky from the bar to the rear entrance where Riley had the car waiting.

The three of them were in Hutch's beat up LTD heading away from Huggy's. There had been a lot of arguing , a lot of struggling, a hell of a lot of threatening, and there they finally were – Hutch in driver position, Riley riding back seat passenger and Starsky, neither convincingly sober nor totally inebriated beside Hutch. He sat now with a semi murderous look on his face.

Hutch had tried to retain a neutral approach when he had walked back to Starsky at the bar although part of him wanted to grab hold of his hotheaded partner and shake the life out of him. Trouble was he realized, is that he was in need of reaching out to him to ensure that he was not hurt too badly and to tell him that he understood exactly what his deviant behavior with the burly bar patron had been about. Starsky was hurting a lot. Foremost in his partner's mind Hutch knew , was his struggle to get some firmer footing back on his own personal shaky ground. Ryan Lancaster had rocked Starsky's foundation to the core. The other detective had left Starsky and his whole sense of his world tilted and distorted.

Tonight he had wanted to reclaim even a small part of that core of masculinity that he had felt Ryan had ripped out of him when he had first felled him in that alley attack. To his hard-nosed partner a solid round or two with his fists would seem more therapeutic than any number of futile sessions with a shrink.

Action, for Starsky was more powerful than words and tonight he badly needed to act out his burning frustration at what Ryan had taken from him.

Hutch knew all of this – knew it and understood it more than even Starsky himself did. The understanding of Starsky's motivation saddened him and walking toward his physically drained , angry friend back there in the bar, had left him feeling helpless.

_Picking fights and using your fists in bars is not the solution buddy. Trouble is I don't have any better answers for you. Ryan has left you like this and I can't find a way to make it all go away. If I could I would, you know that._

Once he had bundled the very resistant Starsky into his car and the doors were closed the atmosphere was electric. For the first few miles no one said anything and the tension was a pulsing force field. Hutch held tight to his anger, Starsky was visibly fuming and he knew that Riley was wanting to disappear into the upholstery of the back seat.

Starsky was the first to crack.

"What the hell was that crap back there Hutch? 'My friend is having problems with his woman?' What sorta shit was that? You're s'posed to be on duty not dropping by bars to interfere with my evening."

"We're going home now Starsk so don't start up again."

"Don't start up again! I didn't start any damn thing – you and ya' little rookie friend here did. You are the ones who busted into Huggy's and interfered with my evening. That guy and me, we were working out our disagreements just fine till the two of you showed up."

"You know you weren't working anything out Starsky except your anger and your fists. You were in no fit shape to go another round with that gorilla. Thank God we got there when we did or I'd be sitting in the back of an ambulance with you right now instead of driving you home. Home! Where you should have been all night in the first place – not out drinking and stirring up trouble for yourself."

Starsky scowled at him and then turned in his seat to glare at Riley with a deepening sneer.

"Perhaps Officer Riley here would like to arrest me – read me my rights – would you like that Riley? A citizen causing a disturbance in a public place. You want me to be your first real collar on the street kid?"

"Starsky shut up – just shut up. Leave Riley out of this. He was just doing what I asked him to and what he needed to do to keep you in one piece."

"Hey just so you know kid, I don't appreciate having you decide what I can and can't do in a public bar. If I wanna to punch some jerk's face in I will ok? Just remember that for the future will ya'?"

"Ah Starsky I'm sorry – but – well " Riley started stammering apologetically at the dark faced detective.

Hutch cut his junior off abruptly.

"Riley don't bother. Just leave it. He's just in a filthy mood and nothing you or I can say right now is going to make it better for him. It's not your concern Riley. Starsky, I mean it – shut up and think about what you're saying. "

At Hutch's words, Starsky pulled back and stopped his tirade. He cursed and turned back to face the front of the car, propping his jean clad legs up on the dash and folding his arms roughly across his chest.

"Just drop me off home and get back to duty then."

Hutch thought he heard Riley breathe in a deep sigh of relief.

Poor kid, thought Hutch.

When he signed on to have him as his training Sergeant he probably never expected that he would have to endure the backlash of Hutch's own partner. In reality though anyone in the station could have warned him that Hutch and his partner or current ex-partner to be more correct, were a package item.

There _was _no Hutch without Starsky and visa versa.

He figured that Riley was starting to get this message loud and clear.

oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooO OOooo

By the time they pulled up outside Starsky's place, Hutch was not surprised to see that his friend had lapsed into a semi sleep – most likely a combination of physical exhaustion from the fight and the effects of the alcohol still in his system.

Deciding against rousing him and risking another helping of Starsky's wrath, Hutch parked the car and went around to the passenger side.

He opened the passenger door now and struggled to pull out the still dazed and unsteady Starsky. As he managed to get his legs under him and pulled him upright from the seat, he motioned to Riley who had climbed out of the back of the car now. Riley was uncertain about what he should be doing or not doing to assist. He was wary enough of the dark haired cop's attitude toward him not to go to close and instead stood by waiting for Hutch.

"Hey look Riley, I'm going to get Starsky inside and settled so there is no sense in you waiting around out here in the car…"

It was clear that Riley was uncomfortable with his partner and that it went without saying that he would not be coming inside with the two of them.

"How about you take the car and go catch yourself something to eat before we roll again for the rest of the shift. If there's any calls from headquarters just come back and get me, but otherwise – can you give me an hour here? "

He said this as he readjusted his grip on his swaying partner.

Starsky chimed in again.

"Yeah – go and catch some bad guys Officer Riley. Maybe they will let ya cuff em' like ya wanted to do to me. Make Hutch here proud of ya'!"

Hutch just smiled apologetically at the younger man and tossed him the keys. Riley didn't need another invitation and was around to the driver's side and turning the ignition as Hutch turned back to the heavy load falling against him.

"Come on you big meathead let's get you inside and off the streets yourself "

He hadn't been inside Starsky's place for days - since he had started the night shift with Riley. When he reached for the light in its familiar location he was visibly shocked by what met his eyes.

His partner, always the neat freak of the two of them had apparently been taking a break from his title. Empty beer bottles, dirty plates, discarded items of clothing and unopened mail littered the living room.

"Aww Christ Starsky you told me you were coping with daily living stuff. Look at this place! It's a sty in here."

"Doesn't look too much different than your place ever looks, so what is ya problem blondie?"

"My problem, Gordo, is that this is not you. This is not how you live or how you like to function. " He had let Starsky fall lightly onto the couch as he surveyed the room and walked further into the kitchen, opening cupboards and the fridge.

"And all of this – mess and – look no food, nothing here at all – makes me think that you're not doing as well as you keeping make out to me that you are. When is the last time you had a decent meal hey?"

"Since when do you ever consider what I eat to be decent?"

"Oh quit with the games Starsky. And what is this, a brewery? How many nights has it taken you to get through all of this liquor?"

His hand encompassed the many beer bottles and half drunk spirit bottles as well.

"You're not supposed to even be drinking with the medication you were on and you know that."

"Not takin' no medication no more. Don't need that stuff. All fine now. All better – just that no one in the department seems to agree and obviously neither do you Hutch."

"Well you're still drinking too much for you own good and I don't like it."

"What would ya' like than partner. What da ya' suggest I do with my days and nights while you are out playin' detective with another partner? Hey? Do ya' think I should be takin' up knittin' or perhaps learnin' a new language? Nope – drinkin's a better idea and a hell of a lot more fun than knittin'. Hey I know, maybe ya can get that new partner of yours to come here into my own apartment and arrest me for creating a mess in a private place? "

"Starsky stop with this new partner stuff will you. It's getting old now. And you should be ashamed of the way you spoke to Riley before. Not that you can probably remember. It's not the kid's fault that he's been put with me for training. It's not his fault that you've been suspended."

"No I s'pose it ain't, but it sure feels good to be mad at someone or somethin' cos I'm not sure who's fault it is that I'm sittin' here day and night on my ass with no pay and no job."

"You are meant to be using the time for treatment Starsky. You know that – treatment. Talking to the doctor or counselor about what happened to you and how it has left you feeling. "

"Jesus Hutch, you know, you are startin' to sound about as corny as that shrink I have to see. Feelings about what happened to me? Feelin's . What sorta shit is that anyway? It's all just words – damn words and none of it makes any sense or changes nothin.' "

He waved his arm widely in exasperation.

"What about Ryan? What about that creep? Does he have to have a little chat to someone about how he _feels_ . How he feels about what happened on the undercover job and after. Hey? No, 'cos, Ryan is still doin' his job, still carryin' his badge and still on the streets. No one is tellin' Ryan to hand over his gun and badge and sit for hours facin' some borin' shrink with borin', fuckin' useless questions."

"Well no Starsky, you're right there. Ryan is still on duty because you have been too stubborn to let anyone know that Ryan has something to talk ABOUT. You have let him walk away with everyone thinking he's all cool and all is OK with the way he treated you. That is your decision Starsky – you made that choice when you refused to speak up about what he really is. Now you're feeling the pain of that decision and you are full of anger. You can't have it both ways."

With a frustrated sigh Hutch walked back to the kitchen and turned on the kettle, pulling out a couple of mugs.

"I' ll get you a coffee and something to eat – that is if I can find anything here to get ready for you."

He went to the drawer and his eye caught the corner of an appointment card.

The Doctor's name was printed in bold and underneath was a handwritten appointment. The date was for two days ago and Hutch turned now, anger on his face.

"How come this card says you were to go two days ago? Did you change it to today?"

"Nope – just missed that one. Wants me to come in too often. Not doin' it. Once week is more than enough for me and even that I can't stand it. Don't think I'm gonna go back again. Just total waste of time. Total shit."

"So you're telling me that you're not only missing the appointments that I know about but that you have others you have just ignored? Starsky! "

"You go to the fuckin' shrink if you want to. You sit and talk dribble to him. I'm not interested. You think you know so much about how I _feel_about what has gone on, then you can damn well go chat with the nice Doctor and leave me the hell alone!"

He pushed past Hutch now and grabbed a glass and the whisky bottle and stamped back to the couch with both.

"I'm making you coffee – you don't need that."

"Says who?"

"Says me, your partner. Now put the whiskey down Starsky. You've already had more than enough tonight and nearly had your head punched in because of it."

"I drink what I like and I'll fight who I want and when I want OK. You just go back out to little boy Riley now and get back to work. I'm fine here by myself and I don't need you to tell me what to do with my life. Remember we're not partners anymore Hutch. I'm a free agent."

That hurt but Hutch absorbed it.

"You're a suspended officer who is supposed to be getting professional care and treatment and getting better so that you can come back to work as my partner. This is a temporary situation and you know it. You're just letting it all get you down Starsk. And being angry at me, lashing out at me and pushing me away is not going to help."

"Wrong. Ya wrong on that one Hutch, cos I can tell ya' now, it sure feels better already."

Starsky lifted the glass up to his mouth and went to throw back a shot.

With an oath Hutch lashed out and grabbed the glass in one hand and seized the bottle with his other. His was at the sink in an instant and upending the contents of both.

Starsky let our a roar and stumbled after him, shoving hard at Hutch's tall back and grabbing out at the bottle. They tousled for a moment and the bottle crashed down in to the sink, smashing into pieces.

Hutch whirled around to face his partner with the sink pressing into his back.

"OK. So its 'let's get angry time' is it Starsky? Alright come on then. I'm here if you want throw a punch. Come on – I can take it and you'll feel better so let's do this."

Starsky pulled his hands down.

"Fuck You Hutch!"

And he moved away back toward the living room.

Hutch followed quickly.

"Then do it – come on you obviously want to fight someone. You did it tonight at Huggy's and that still hasn't been enough for you – "

"I want ya' to stop tellin' me what to do with my life Hutch. Tellin' me to see the shrink, checkin' up on me every hour or so, naggin' about my diet and my drinkin'. Going on about my fuckin' feelings! I don't have any feelings Hutch. I just feel empty and I don't want this shit from you anymore. Tonight you just went too far. I don't need you at my back anymore don't ya' get it. Ya' don't owe me that anymore. I'm not your partner and so just keep away from me now. I am sick of it all. Sick of you!"

With that he lunged at Hutch and took him unawares. Hutch half fell back with the impact of his partner's body missiling toward him and pushing him hard against the side of the coffee table. Hutch went to right himself by pushing back a little and before he knew it the scuffle was on. Starsky's head was down low and ramming it into Hutch's lower guts while his arms shoved him with such force that Hutch had no option but to wrestle him back.

Starsky was swearing loudly now as he scrabbled with his tall partner. Hutch swore too and kept yelling Starsky's name.

"Starsky stop! Stop! You don't know what you're doing here and you're getting out of control. Stop for God's sake before I have to do something to hurt you!"

"Fuck yourself Hutch – just get out of my home and leave me alone."

This time Starsky took aim with his fist and he held it high – coming in hard toward Hutch's jaw. Hutch blocked it and held the vibrating arm firmly. Starsky kept pushing and was visibly shaking with anger now, his face contorted with – Hutch saw it then , pure pain.

"Not going Starsky. Staying till you calm down and listen to me. Calm down now come on. It's OK. It's OK. It's me here Starsk – not some thug at the bar, not Ryan, it's me. You don't have to fight me and you don't have to hurt yourself. I won't let you do that."

For minutes Starsky still struggled and pushed and pulled, contorting his body trying to free his arm. Hutch kept his iron grip firm and rigid and held firm against Starsky pushing weight and abusive threats.

Finally, slowly, Hutch could feel the energy leaving his partner's taut body. As he continued to hold him he moved his grip around to encircle his back and shoulders, making sure he never let go in fear that Starsky would ignite again.

Hutch's voice was thick with emotion.

"You know I will always have your back Starsky, and you'll never not be my partner so don't try to hurt us both by saying that. I'm hurting as much as you are here partner. Ryan has done this to both of us. Don't let him push us apart anymore."

Starsky stopped cursing him and swearing. In stead he started repeating his name slowly and with such depth of despair that Hutch felt himself wanting to hold him even tighter if that had been possible.

"Hutch…Hutch…Hutch… Please tell me what to do? I am sick of feeling so bad. Please Hutch."

"Awww Starsk I know buddy, I know. It's easier to be angry than it is to let all the pain out. I can feel your pain, I want to help you but you just won't let me Starsky. I've been trying and trying to get you to reach out to me but since this has all happened you've closed me off. I just want to be there for you buddy. I'm here for you.''

Hutch tightened his hold and moved his arms to wrap his partner as close and as hard to him as physically possible. For weeks and weeks he had wanted to do this for Starsky but had kept his distance feeling his partner's uneasiness ever since Ryan had entered their lives.

Hutch brought his big hand up now and touched his friend's hot face and damp hair, all the while talking soothingly and reassuringly to him.

Starsky had gone from being a fuelled up bull to a needy confused wounded animal and was now letting Hutch rock and hold him while he seemed calmed and settled by his partner's gentle voice.

As Hutch went to move his arm from around Starsky's side, Starsky let out a noticeable wince and grunt.

Alarmed Hutch drew back and looked down.

"What did I do? Did I hurt you buddy? Tell me where it hurts."

Starsky was holding his side protectively and his face showed the strain of trying to breathe through fresh waives of pain.

"It's nothin'. Nothin. Don't worry."

"You got hurt in that bar fight didn't you ? Let me look – let me look at your wound. Here – "

Gently now Hutch pulled up Starsky's shirt and as he did his hand brushed over warm perspiring flesh. Starsky's strong abdominals tensed and he gasped drawing back.

"God! Sorry did I hurt you again? You pull it up Starsky , you do it so I can make sure your wound is OK."

He felt it the moment Starsky snapped back from the closeness that they were both verging upon. A degree of familiar closeness and sharing that had not been felt by Hutch for a long while – since he had been ill following his heroin addiction. For a few minutes earlier they had both allowed themselves to be swept into the cocoon of oneness where they both always felt so safe and united, but now the look of withdrawal was back on Starsky's face.

He pulled back even further, and stepped back a few paces. He tucked his loose shirt in carefully to his jeans and looked now with those hard eyes at Hutch.

"I told ya before Hutch. I don't need ya to look after me. It's alright. The wound is fine."

"Don't do this Starsky. Don't keep doing this. I know you don't want to be like this but you can't seem to stop it. You can keep pushing me and shutting me out but it's easy to see why you are doing it and all I want is to help you through all of this."

"Again with the shrink talk. If I had a job Hutch I might be able to afford to pay you for your time with me – your counsellin' sessions. "

"Oh for Christ Sakes…."

"For Christ Sakes is right Hutch – that's right! I don't need no other shrink to help here and especially not my partner. I just need you to be a partner on the streets but somehow you and Dobey took care of that didn't you? It should be Ryan with no job and no badge – not me ! You of all people should know that partner! But all I know is that you took me downtown to that meetin' with Simonetti, Ryan and Dobey, and next thing I know is that I end up on my ass with no job."

"This is not fair Starsky. I had nothing whatsoever to do with your suspension. "

"No? But ya' not thinkin' its such a bad idea are ya Hutch? You don't really want me out there right now do ya'? You prefer that I am here where ya' know where I am and I can't make a mistake that will earn me a bullet in the chest. You may not have signed my suspension papers Hutch but ya' sure as hell didn't put up much of an argument with the Cap'n when he told you what he wanted me to do. And just like Dobey ya' think that I need to 'talk about' what happened to me and until I do for some stupid fuckin' reason you all think I can't hit the streets."

So – see – I told ya didn't I? It's just like I said to you - getting' left in that alley by Ryan, getting my ass kicked in by him has left people thinkin' I'm not a good enough cop to watch your back."

'That is far from the truth and all mixed up Starsky. You have messed this all up and made yourself believe utter crap about what is really going on here."

"Oh shut up Hutch. Stop bullshitting me. I got done over on a job – done over real bad. Didn't make me feel too happy with myself and I was left looking like I wasn't too happy and suddenly, the decision is made for me that I am not fit for duty. "

"Starsky why are you just avoiding everything else that has happened to you as well - its not just the beating – its what that animal has done to you privately. He has fucked with your head and left you unsure of yourself. Its not that anyone thinks you're not fit to be cop because he beat you up."

"Isn't it? You're forgetting Hutch that Dobey don't know anythin' else about the other stuff. All he knows is that Ryan nearly killed me on the undercover job. That's all. And on that basis alone he has made his decision to put me on suspension. Just that!

Jesus what do you think I'd get if he found out about all the other shit ? Imagine if he found out what else that sick bastard has done to me? Do you really think for a moment that I'd ever stand a chance of getting my badge back.

Fact is there ain't enough sessions with the Doc in this lifetime that could fix up that shit."

Starsky's blue eyes were boring into his partners now – and Hutch felt himself conceding that the words he had just heard were close to cold hard reality. Starsky was right – Dobey had suspended him because of what he had perceived as the fallout of the undercover operation – nothing whatsoever to do with Ryan's progressive and relentless assault on his partner.

"Dobey may not know about anything else Starsky, but I doubt you would be in this sort of shape if it had all just ended with what he did to you in that alley way."

The dark head dropped now.

"Well it didn't end there did it? He's messed me up and now I have no job Hutch. Either way, whatever got me to this point, I have no job. I'm pretty fuckin' mad about that. I just want to be left alone to be mad. That's all I'm asking' now – just leave me alone to sort through this."

The intensity of their gaze was only broken by the shrillness of the phone. It rang twice, three times, four….

"Do you want me to pick that up for you? Who the hell would be calling you at this time of night? Oh wait, could be Riley…. he might have asked to be patched through to your number."

Hutch strode to the phone and as he lifted it Starsky shook his head.

"No. Just leave it ring. Don't –"

But Hutch had picked the receiver up and was listening.

"Lo'. Hello? Who is this? Starsky's phone."

He shrugged his shoulders and replaced the phone on the hook.

"Nothing – no-one there. Might have been a wrong number."

He saw Starsky's face.

"What do you mean, just leave it ring? Have you stopped answering your phone now?"

"No – well – its just…"

The phone rang again.

Starsky who had moved closer to the phone now, put his hand down firmly on the receiver and stared hard at Hutch.

"I told you just to leave it."

Hutch raised his eyebrows and then frowned deeply. Starsky lifted the receiver and placed it beside the phone, cutting the connection.

Awareness dawned across Hutch's face with an angry flourish.

"Its him isn't it? Its fucking Ryan. How long has this been going on? He's harassing you now on the phone? What does he say to you Starsky? Is he threatening you? "

"Oh for God's Sake just go back to work Hutch. I'm tired and I want to go to bed now. You're right – I'm done in, I need to crash. When is Riley back to pick you up?"

"What is he saying to you Starsky? I need to know. Stop being such a pig headed ass about this."

"Nothing. He says nothing, if you want to know ok. Just hangs there on the other end – but I know its him. Just another way of screwin' with my head. More of his sick mind games."

"So this is why you haven't been answering my calls all week isn't it? You won't answer the phone because of him taunting you? Why can't you tell me these things Starsk? Can't you understand all you are doing is worrying me and leaving me feeling angry with you for cutting me out of your life.

Jesus! What a mess. This is just getting out of control Starsky. Ryan is completely out of control. We can get the calls investigated, traced – prove that he is harassing you."

"Go back to work Hutch."

He turned away.

"Oh Starsky…..don't ..."

Just then a horn sounded outside and given the time Hutch knew it was Riley.

"There's your partner. Don't keep him waiting Hutch – he may not be as patient as me you know."

Hutch moved to the door quickly, opened it and signaled down to his junior officer.

Holding the door ajar he turned back and walked toward his friend.

"I'll go now Starsk because I can see that you need to rest. But this is not going to work anymore. I'm not staying away just because you think it is what you want in life at the moment. You are not being fair to yourself or to me. This all has to be dealt with eventually – we need to move on from this and get you back to our lives. We can only do that if you stop pulling away from me Starsk."

He reached out as he spoke and was totally dismayed to see that his words were still left hanging in the air. As his partner stepped back away from him, the intent and sincerity of his words slipped down into the chasm created by Starsky's distancing of himself.

Hutch dropped his arm.

"You're right. I need to get back to Riley. He's a good kid Starsky. I hope one day soon when you climb out of this hole you're digging for yourself, you can see that for yourself.

Get some rest."

He pulled the door a little too loudly behind him as he left.

There was after all, only so much of Starsky's cutting edge that he could bear to take in one sitting.

.

.


	3. Chapter 3

**Then Neither Can He**

**Chapter Three**

He didn't have to wait long for what he had come for. As he lay slumped down in the front seat of his car with his sunglasses low on his face and his cap pulled down over his smooth forehead, he watched the curly-haired man strut down his front steps and walk purposefully, not leisurely, over to his red and white car.

From his vantage point a little down the street he was able to detect even from that distance that the mood of the man now pulling away with a screech of tires, was far from happy in his own skin. His face was brooding and there was not even a glimmer of lightness in his step. All buoyancy and litheness that normally pervaded this man's movements were stripped away. In its place an air of sullen moodiness and heavy spirit emanated from his compact body.

David Starsky seemed caught half way between despondency and silent rage.

The tall, black-haired Detective pulled out into the street to follow the red and white Torino. Smiling now, he couldn't suppress the growing excitement that filled both his loins and his mind at the thought of a fresh encounter with the man he was carefully tailing.

_It's been a while Starsk._

_Been a while._

Ryan was prepared to tail the Torino and wait for the most opportune time to meet yet again with the object of his obsession.

oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOooo

"David, we have talked now several times and you have chosen to remain reticent about the incident in the alley way. I think that today we need to finally broach the pain of this memory and try to explore just a little if we can, how this traumatic event has affected you."

The older man sitting opposite Starsky was using a careful and caring tone but it was clear that despite his professional mask, he was becoming frustrated with the sullen and silent man who remained slumped and disinterested in the chair opposite.

For the third session in a row Detective David Starsky had arrived late for his appointment and was continuing his performance of being in the room without really "being" in the room.

The Doctor, a skilled and respected psychotherapist was well used to such evasion and denial, but this man was truly putting up the barriers.

"Nothin' I need to "explore" – already know all about it."

"I'm using the word "explore" here David, in the sense, that we need to look a little more deeply into how being victimized by Detective Lancaster has left you feeling about yourself."

"I wasn't "victimized" by no one in that alley way. I was roughed up and it was part of the undercover op. It's what cops do – part of the game. End of story."

"So David, Detective Lancaster did what he had to – in the line of duty. Yes I can see that. When he overpowered and hurt you, left you there in that alley way, how did that make you feel? Can you describe any of those feelings? Angry? Frightened? Did it leave you untrusting? Let's try to talk about those feelings now David."

"Jesus, what the - ! What do you want me to say? Feelings? I had no feelings! I was unconscious, and bleeding out on the road. Only feelings I had was a bitch of a burn in my guts, but even that was soon gone when I blacked out. Ain't much more to say about that. Now can we move onto somethin' else like – when are ya' gonna sign me off for fit to return to duty?"

"David – you must realize that we have met now for several sessions – and in fact you have missed several more, but that aside – you have made very minimal progress with your treatment here."

"What does that mean exactly?"

Starsky was far from impressed.

"What it means is that unless you make the decision to start working with me and not _against_ me, we will be doing these sessions for a very long time."

The doctor was at once sympathetic and stern and underneath there remained the quiet caring and understanding toward the recalcitrant and withdrawn man who looked at him now with flashing eyes.

"I ain't planning to sit in this chair for many more "sessions" as you call them. All I want is to get back my badge and get back to work. What the hell is the problem here? I don't want to discuss feelings or memories or any other shit ok? I got beaten up and I got stabbed. End of story. How many times can I talk about it?"

"Well in reality you have not talked about it even once, except on a purely objective level David. There is a concern that you are harboring residual emotional trauma from this incident, which will inevitably impact, on your role as a police officer. A police officer with a high degree of responsibility and risk."

"My only responsibility is to work the streets, protect the citizens and watch my partner's back."

"And given your current mental state, do you truly believe you can fulfill those roles adequately?"

"Damn right I can! Trouble is my partner is out on the streets right now with some green Rookie beside him while I'm havin' to sit in this freakin' office talkin' complete shit about feelings. How do ya' reckon my feelings are gonna be if Hutch gets his head shot off while I am stuck here doin' this? I've had this! Fuck this! Why haven't you got Ryan sittin' in this chair and not me? After all he's the one who shoved the knife into me ain't he?"

"Ah..."

The doctor gave Starsky a loaded look and tapped his pencil on his pad.

"What do ya' mean…'Ah' ? What the hell is that s'posed to mean?"

"It means David, that for the first time in two weeks , you have finally acknowledged some feelings of anger toward Ryan Lancaster and feelings of resentment that he has taken you away from what you see as your rightful role as a police officer."

The doctor went on.

"I am hearing you say that you do feel angry toward him for what he did to you physically – and that his actions were then not just necessarily part of the job. Also you blame him for effectively removing you from your role of being a partner with Detective Hutchinson."

Starsky just looked away and stared out of the window.

"May I ask you then David- is it just anger you feel because of what Ryan did to you physically or how he has made you feel on an emotional level? "

Starsky remained quiet.

"Ryan was your partner David, and he hurt you. He hurt you badly. That fact does not alter irrespective of why he did what he did to you. Whether it may have been in the best interests of the undercover operation or not. How has that left you feeling?"

"Ryan is _not_ my partner."

"Well he was for a period of time, during the undercover operation. His actions toward you were extreme. "

Nothing again from his patient.

"David, how would you react if Ken was to hurt you in a similar way?"

The doctor was visibly shocked by the strong reaction that this question ignited in his patient but he remained still in his seat as Starsky jumped up and loomed over him.

"Hutch would never do that to me! He would never do what Ryan has done to me! You fuckin' take that question back Doc! Don't even mention Hutch's name in the same breath as that freakin' nutcase! Real partners don't do what Ryan did to me to each other you hear? You hear me Doc? Real partners trust each other and depend on each other – like Hutch and me. Ryan was not a partner, even though he pretended to be mine for a while. He is a – he is a – "

"He is what David? What is Ryan?"

Starsky stopped in mid sentence and looked suddenly overwhelmed by his own outburst. His face looked as though it might crumple at any moment but in the end he pulled himself up and the Doctor saw the shutters come down as soon as his patient understood the ramifications of his unspoken words.

Starsky took a huge ragged breath and went boneless.

"Look I ain't got nothin' against you Doc, but I just want this all behind me."

"It can be all behind you David, but not until you put it all in front of yourself and deal with what this whole episode has done to you."

For a moment the doctor looked speculatively at the other man.

"Perhaps there is more than just the event in the alley way that has left you feeling so overwhelmed. Have you had further involvement with Ryan since the undercover operation that may have impacted on your attitude toward him? "

"Wh... what?"

The doctor did not miss the face before him visibly paling.

"Can we talk about your relationship in general with Ryan, and perhaps how he is involved with you and your partner? I have read in the file that you all went through the academy together and have known each other over the years. You knew Ryan quite well when you went undercover with him. Have you continued to see him in any capacity since the drug bust operation?"

His patient was paling more and more and his face was pinched, his body tensed.

He stood for a moment frozen and then spat out.

"Oh fuck this! Take your "feelings" and shove 'em. I'm outa here and ain't comin' back. Write that down in your fuckin' report!"

The doctor was not surprised when the dark haired detective crashed out of the office.

He tossed his pad and pen down on the side table and rubbed his tired eyes.

Finally he had hit the nerve that needed to be hit with his reluctant patient.

The wall of denial had finally been breached.

oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOooo

"Fuckin' load of shit! 'Talk about how you feel David!' Christ! Just get me out of here!"

And he was.

He was out of there and back into the Torino and leaning heavily onto the steering wheel and breathing rapidly and hard.

_Too close. Too close. Don't wanna go there. Can't go there. Ryan you bastard! _

Then it came to him and his breath came even more quickly. He thought back to some of the Doctor's last words during the session.

_"Have you continued to see him in any capacity since the drug bust operation?"_

_Does he know? How does the Doc know about Ryan? What he did to me? He can't possibly know. Stop being stupid Starsky. Pull yourself together . Christ – you're paranoid now. This is sending you crazy. He can't know. Only three of us know – unless – unless – Hutch has told the Doc? No! No! He wouldn't do that, Hutch would never do that. _

He could feel the fear and the suspicion creeping in, the doubt clenching his guts and boring into his head. Not his partner. Never. No – the Doc never really said that he knew.

_This is all in your head Starsky. Just stop it now. Just calm down. Can't calm down. Oh God! _

He pulled the Torino around with the intention of heading home. The intention of getting home was now surpassed by another pull. His head was doing him in. He needed a drink – a stiff one and quickly. Then he remembered. Hutch had emptied all of his booze down the drain last night.

_Damn you Hutch! Now look what you've done. You can't stop me from doing what I need to do right now, no matter how much you think you can. I need my own form of treatment now and it ain't the sort that comes from talkin' to some shrink. Sorry buddy, but I really, really need to blank out from this world right now. Don't need to worry buddy, cos ya' won't even know. _

He imagined that Hutch would be at home sleeping off his night shift and would be none the wiser of yet another one of his partner's moody, alcohol fuelled sessions.

He veered off into a side street and headed toward a block where he knew there were a couple of liquor stores.

It might be still morning but he was already over this day and what it had to offer him. It was yet another lousy day in what had been a string of lousy days. The session with the Doc had just taken "Lousy" to a whole new lower level. He'd let a bottle of firewater take care of the bitter aftertaste of the Doctor's words.

Maybe, just maybe, he could wash away the taint of Ryan and sink into a mind numbing oblivion where there was no such thing as "feelings" and memories. No such thing as "exploring" pain and emotions.

_Fuck that! The only thing I want to explore is the bottom on a bottle._

When the first liquor store presented itself he pulled his car into a small parking area to the side of the shop. His head down and with the intention only of securing his own form of anesthetic, Starsky once again completely missed Ryan studying him from behind his dark sunglasses.

oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOooo

Emerging from the liquor store with a bottle of whisky in a brown bag tucked under his arm, Starsky threw open his car door and tossed the bag into the passenger side. He pulled back and straightened up, preparing to climb into the drivers seat, keys jangling impatiently in his hands. In his mind he was already home on his couch, slugging down the anti-dote to all the hurt and anger dredged up by the encounter with the Doctor. The exchange that had just transpired in his office had brought to the surface all the muck that he had been trying so hard to keep buried deep. Christ, he only hoped that he could dampen it all back down with a bottle of whisky. Dark thoughts and resentment caused by the Doctor's words were displaced by a voice he had now begun to fear.

The deep timbered taunt behind him brought him up short.

"Little early in the day for the heavy stuff isn't Partner?"

Starsky turned slowly even though every fiber in his being demanded that he whirl and pounce at the source of the words.

"So stalking is ya' latest fetish Ryan? Or should I say a continuation of your usual sick habits. Don't think this area of the neighbourhood falls into your beat strip. Bit out of the nineteenth's zone here ain't ya? "

"Well you're wrong Starsky because I was in fact cruising the area and couldn't help but spot the rather obvious Torino. Thought I'd stop and say hello and check on how you're doing. It's a little worrying to see you stocking up on the heavy stuff when it is not even past midday. Hope you're not planning a private party."

"Then let me suggest that you get back into your own car and keep on cruising Ryan. Cruise right away from me and get the fuck out of my face."

"Not sure that this is how your Captain would imagine you would be spending your suspension leave. I'm sure he and Hutchinson would consider far better ways for you to - hmmmn – how should I say it? Get your strength back and your emotions under control."

Starsky took a couple of steps closer to the tall dark haired man and stared hard at him.

"Like I just said Ryan. If you don't get ya' face away from me right now, ya' gonna' see how really outta control my emotions actually are right now. Might not be safe for ya' to keep standing there. Even the Doc thinks I am screwed up so I ain't exactly responsible for my actions. "

Starsky turned to climb into his car and at that moment Ryan moved back toward him and put his hand on the curly haired man's shoulder. It was all it took to ignite Starsky.

He pivoted on his feet, grabbed Ryan by the collar of his shirt and using all of his mid body strength he drove him back into the hard concrete wall of the side street. He slammed Ryan hard against the wall and feeling the impact, pulled him away again for a second before slamming him a second time. The brutal and unexpected thrust jarred Ryan's head hard against the wall and the heavy thud and subsequent grunt was loud in the dusty, dirty side street.

"Don't you ever, ever lay your hands on me again you fuckin' sicko. Never! You've touched me for the last time. I pulled the gun away last time when I had the chance to blow you away. Don't be so sure I'll do that the next time I get an opportunity to take you down. "

Ryan's lifted his head a little from where Starsky had smacked it against the wall and he shook it a little, perceptively dazed and more than a little unsettled. The speed and the force with which the other man had moved had taken him by surprise and for a brief moment the dark eyes transmitted wariness. Bravado and conceit were swept away in the wake of his sudden loss of superiority.

Starsky was no longer the cornered victim.

There was a fresh layer to him now and despite dull and fading bruises, his hardened face spoke of a danger that his taut and vibrating body threatened to make good on.

Ryan took a moment to re-adjust and recalculate his role.

He was more cautiously aware of Starsky as a force to be reckoned with and not just as an object of his desires and fantasies. The cop in him made him modulate his approach to the curly haired detective.

"Hey, come on Starsk. Chill out. I'm just concerned for your welfare as any partner would be. You just don't look so good and I think that hitting the sauce is the last thing you probably need right now."

Starsky dropped his iron grip on the tall man just as quickly as he had formed it. With a snort of disgust he all but shoved Ryan to the ground as he pushed him away. Ryan had to quickly stagger to prevent himself from falling to the hard ground.

"Just keep the hell away from me Ryan. Far away. You've done enough to fuck up my life and there will be no more. I have taken the fall for you, you fuckin' asshole. I have lost my badge for you, when this should be you standin' here. So don't push me anymore Ryan 'cos I swear to God, I won't take no more from you. And never use the term "partner" when ya talk to me. You have never been my partner you son of a bitch."

Ryan straightened and shook himself, realigning his clothes and sweeping back his curtain of hair.

"Well seems as though your real partner has found himself a new sidekick. I hear that the young Rookie shows promise and that Hutchinson and he are a tight little unit on the beat right now. Must grind at you Starsky to think he has linked up with another partner."

"Save ya stinkin' breath Ryan. Don't think ya can get between Hutch and me. The reason Hutch has Riley was a move to keep the kid away from your filthy clutches. You will never be trusted with a young rookie and Dobey and your captain know it. Hutch is lookin' out for that kid."

The contemptuous laugh reappeared as Ryan countered.

"All in your pretty head Starsky. There is no such blemish on my record. I have never had any recorded incidents with other officers. You're just getting all bothered by our little tryst together. Just because you didn't want to play doesn't mean you can go around making accusations about me. You played hard to get and now you're wanting to throw it back at me."

Starsky wanted to go at him again but then just stood his ground and breathed. He looked almost confused and bewildered as he took in the sight of Ryan and heard his words.

"Now ya' see Ryan, I am startin' to realize only now just how very very disturbed you really are. I'm almost beginnin' to feel sorry for you and your sick mind. Ya' need help man but I'm not gonna waste my time on you for one more moment. Like I have already told ya' – just keep away from me, keep away from my partner and live your own pathetic life. I don't know what ya' want from Hutch and me, but ya' not gettin' one more part of us."

With that he slammed the Torino door shut and revved its engine. He did not look back as he reversed the long sleek car out of the driveway and accelerated onto the street.

The tall dark-haired man just stood and watched him drive off, the half sided insolent smile disappearing now that his audience was gone. The handsome face now radiated a sullenness that was tinged with malevolence.

Tinged with evil.

oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOooo

"All available units please respond to a 211 – reported armed robbery in progress. Corner of Bankstown Street and Seaview Drive."

Riley turned to his superior with a questioning look.

"Not far from here, should we respond Ken?"

"Yeah call it Riley, may be other units closer but we can go in anyway for backup if necessary. It's not our area but what the hell? "

"Control One this is Zebra Three we are responding."

Riley and Hutch had been on duty for about an hour and had been returning from following up some leads from another case in a neighborhood not too far from where the call out came in from. They were driving back to the precinct when the patch came through.

Riley bent down for the mars light and struggled a little with the job of positioning and fixing it. A part of him was still secretly thrilled to perform the task and another part of him felt the tremors of mixed fear and excitement that danced in his veins whenever he and his new senior supervisor responded to a call in.

It sure was a lot different being on this side of the operation than being in the Communication Room. This was the sort of stuff that he had only ever thought happened to the officers on the other end of his radio, not to him. He would never have dreamed that in such a short time into his rotations he would be given the opportunity to be under the traineeship of such a respected officer as Hutchinson. Really, the whole arrangement had been such a career windfall for him he thought as Hutch pushed the gas and rushed toward the scene. He caught a look of his partner out of the corner of his eye and was once again enthralled by how calm and matter of fact he could be as they raced toward what could be a dangerous call in. Riley was barely able to contain his own reactions of mounting excitement and could feel the thrum of adrenalin in his body. Hutch on the contrary seemed totally divorced from the situation. As always in the past weeks, his senior was pre-occupied and quiet. His face seemed to show that his head was filled with concerns and worries that had little to do with what was happening to him in the here and now.

Riley knew where his training officer's headspace was – and it was a long way from the action on the streets. Looking again at the drawn features of the handsome blond man beside him, his own anxiety at the call out was pushed aside to worry about this man. Detective Hutchinson was nothing but supportive and kind to him. He had been since the first day he had begun to talk to Riley down in the communication's room. But as kind and considerate that he was – his focus was never really on him or the job – it was elsewhere.

Riley knew that.

He had already begun to learn how to read his new partner. Zebra Three could be screaming toward any number of possible criminal scenarios - today, last week or possibly next week too and still his new blond friend and mentor would be self-absorbed in his own head.

A head that was filled with only one focus.

His real partner, Starsky.

oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOooo

A few minutes later as the early evening light was fading and the street and shop lights were beginning to illuminate the backstreets of the neighborhood where the call in had been made, Hutch pulled his car in sharply to the gutter of the shop. Two other cars were already stationed outside the scene – a black and white patrol and another unmarked car.

Riley's heightened anxiety abated quickly when he realized that he and Hutch were late on the scene. Two uniformed cops were already in the process of cuffing two scruffy and verbally abusive men and there was a plain-clothes officer inside the shop interviewing the shop owner. Another officer was taking notes separately from a very shaken witness.

Riley did a double take when he looked again at the detective inside the shop. His sharp intake of breath had Hutch who was just climbing out of his side of the car, looking over at him suddenly. He was questioning his Rookie's reaction with his eyes.

"What is it Riley?"

It didn't take him long to understand Riley's shocked surprise. Riley watched his superior's clear blue eyes almost instantly appear to darken as they pinpointed a focal point inside the shop.

Almost as if he could feel the eyes on him, Ryan looked up from writing notes on his pad and looked directly at the tall blond as he carefully closed his car door and moved toward the shop front.

Riley followed in his wake. He gave a moment to consider that although the call out had been anti-climatic from a learning curve point of view for him, his anxiety levels were on the rise again as he realized the threat of the call out was far from over.

His life experiences were sure getting a work out over the past few weeks. There was an awful lot to learn about intra-departmental politics and officer-to-officer relationships. From what he had seen so far in this job, there was as much drama going on within the force as there was between the force and the streets.

As Hutch moved slowly toward the interior of the shop, almost with panther style grace, Riley knew that his Sergeant had little interest in following up on the felony.

As Riley watched Hutch advance toward Ryan, he exhaled. The criminal action that had just taken place here might not even come close to the drama that might yet unfold if the look on the blond's face was any indication. Like it or not, Riley accepted the fact that he was now officially one half of this team and so although part of him wanted to go back and climb into Hutch's beat up car, the partner in him was determined to stick. He had signed on as Detective Ken Hutchinson's trainee. Fact was that the only real reason that had been a remote possibility was because of the tall dark detective now waiting as Hutch drew closer to him.

Detective Ryan Lancaster was a catalyst in so many ways. And, as Riley reflected now, all of those many catalysts were bad. To be more precise, Riley concluded to himself as he watched the black-eyed man gloating, Ryan himself was just plain bad.

His last thought as the distance between the blond-haired and the black-haired detectives closed, was one of steely and dutiful resignation. Resignation to whatever Ken needed or wanted to do. Riley knew that deep inside of himself, he had felt indebted and loyal to Ken. He also was silently happy that he felt secure in the knowledge that he already knew a lot about this tall, often cool, blond man. And he appreciated that Ken Hutchinson was not always an easy man to work out or to befriend on a close level.

Right now he knew him well enough to know what was in his head. Two things were dominating Hutch's mind - one was a preoccupation with his best friend and his worries for him. The other was standing in front of him right now.

Riley hung back just a little now as the two faced off.

_Well - here we go again. _Riley thought_, Hutchinson versus Lancaster._


	4. Chapter 4

**Then Neither Can He**

**Chapter 4**

Riley waited.

Who out of these two foes would be the first to cut and thrust?

Ryan's watched the tall blond approach but then in the last steps Hutch moved to the side to address the uniform who was off to the side questioning the distressed witness. He took his time with the young uniformed officer and asked a few quiet questions himself of the distraught middle-aged woman. Riley could tell that the sideways move to the other cop had displaced Ryan who was waiting in readiness for his nemesis to address him.

Riley wondered whether his superior's move had been a tactical one or simply common procedural courtesy and care to ensure the more junior officer was covering all of the bases? Either way it had served the purpose of rattling Ryan who was momentarily off guard before he pulled himself back to his own detailing of the crime.

"Riley can you check that the two officers are doing ok out there with the perps? Just make sure they don't need any assistance with getting them into the black and white. I'll be with you in a moment."

Riley nodded and walked back outside. That was his cue to leave his partner with Ryan. It was also not lost on Riley that it was Hutch's way of keeping him out of the firing line that might transpire between the two of them. He did as he was directed by his supervisor but kept half an eye of them both as he walked away.

There was already in him the awareness of wanting to "be there" for Ken, for Hutch as he thought of him, but dared not call him yet. Even after such a brief involvement with this man he was feeling the pull of the commitment of a fledgling partnership. He could only wonder at the strength and the depth of the partnership that he and Starsky shared. All those years together, all that intensity of their unique partnership and devotion to each other. Every moment he was with Hutch he was reminded of that relationship's power.

Starsky's absence from Hutch was a voluble presence. In a converse way even though his dark haired buddy was not beside him, his physical absence was an entity in itself. Starsky was in the car with them every night, in the squad room, at the desk and in every unspoken word that Hutch kept to himself. Riley wondered if Starsky himself would ever truly understand just how much a part of Hutch he really was. Given that he had not ever been given the opportunity to get close to Hutch's curly haired friend he really had no idea of how balanced the relationship was, how it worked. But he suspected that Starsky was suffering just as much as the blond was without him at his side. He would like to think that one day Starsky would get to trust him enough, to like him enough so that he could work him out a bit more for himself.

Right now however, he knew Starsky saw him only as an interloper and a symbol of his own suspended status. In a way he sensed that Starsky saw him as a manifestation of what had taken him away from Hutch. He wished he could tell Starsky that this was far from true, that Hutch was not distant from him and that no-one could ever stand between him and Hutch, least of all him, an idealistic young Rookie. He wished he could tell Starsky how much he already admired and respected Hutch, already felt strong loyal fondness which he suspected was in danger of bordering on semi hero worship. But he was given no licence to share anything with the angry curly haired man.

The perps were squawking and bitching at the officers and with one eye and ear on the two men inside, Riley moved over to extend his assistance if required.

Inside Hutch patted the other younger uniformed officer on the arm and said a few more quiet words to the witness before he walked over to the counter and leaned nonchalantly against it. Ryan closed his notebook and handed his card to the shop owner. He gave his full attention to the blond who was now obviously ready to acknowledge him. Hutch's ploys and indifferent body language had put him a little off his stride but as he offhandedly discounted the shop owner, he quickly replaced his mask of contempt.

With his arms folded and his long lean body relaxed Hutch watched the tall dark Detective. He said nothing but just watched him – his eyes penetrative and sharp while his body posture remained loose and almost bored.

Hutch had already learned that Ryan liked to play the psychological one up manship game and right now he entered the battle with his own weaponry.

_You fucker. I like to watch you squirm. Squirm and shift around. Feel uneasy and uncomfortable because I will make sure your life is a living hell after what you have done to Starsky. I may not be able to put you down professionally and criminally yet, but I can do my best to make you_ _sweat. To make you cringe and doubt yourself. _

Ryan was going to have to maneuver past him to get clear of the counter, and with the other detective's long legs stretched out in front of him, there was no way Ryan could easily pass by until Hutch moved.

And Hutch didn't move. Was determined not to move. Not a muscle.

_You will wait you bastard. You will wait until I let you go by me. Look me in the eye and see my hatred for you. See that I mean to make you pay for everything you have made my partner feel. _

Ryan eventually broke the silence and it was obvious that he was not happy with the physical situation the other man had put him into.

"Bit of an overkill don't you think Detective Hutchinson, bringing your rookie to a call out that is already covered, not to say sewn up? Can't find enough action in your own precinct to show the boy what to do? Or perhaps you're feeling a little exposed without your usual backup and so are hitting the easy call outs. "

Hutch said nothing but just continued to look at Ryan directly in the face.

"Have you been calling Starsky at his home?"

"What sort of question is that?

"It's a direct question. Now give me a direct answer. Have you been harassing my partner with phone calls and then hanging up?"

Ryan gave a sneering laugh and shook his dark head, the hair swishing about his face.

"Seems like your buddy is really losing it Hutchinson. Phone calls with heavy breathing now? Christ! What next? Just as well he has been suspended and under psychiatric care. I had no idea that the number I had to do to him during that drug bust would mess with his head so much. You sort of think that at our stage of the career we could take these hits and get back up on our feet. But for poor Starsky, it looks like the undercover role really fucked him up big time. "

Ryan went to move past and Hutch only extended his long legs out further. He did however unfold his arms and brought them out in front of his body. Ryan took note of the arms moving.

_That's right Ryan. I have my fists ready for you all over again. I'll never tire of pummelling you so just give me the chance. Just say what it takes to make me move and I will.. It can be just the two of us again – me against you Ryan. I so much want to hit you so give me the chance._

"No one here but you and me you fucker. You know what you have done to Starsk, you filthy perverted animal. I know what you have done to him and I can tell you Ryan that there is only a thin thin line between you and me. You touch, go near or harass or stress my partner one more time and I will step over that line Ryan. I will take you down all the way – first professionally and then perhaps personally."

"But your beloved buddy is so worried about your career and your personal integrity Hutchinson. He is worried sick, literally worried – crazy sick – that you will be dragged through the mud when your own dirty secrets are revealed to the powers of the department. Not too many chances for a job on the force when it gets out that you like to live on the end of a needle."

Hutch gave him a soft but harsh laugh and shook his head as if he found Ryan amusing.

"Oh Ryan, you really don't know me at all do you? Do you really think I would let you do anymore to Starsky just to protect my own ass? In the end I will over-rule Starsky's wish to protect me if it comes down to it. You see how it works Ryan? This friendship, this partnership thing? Something you have never had and never will? In the end – you will push us both too far and one of us will have to choose to protect the other at whatever costs to ourselves. I've already made the decision Ryan – you cannot hold me over Starsky. I won't let you use me to hurt him. So – you are running out of options. Here it is straight and clear. Keep the fuck away from Starsky. Period. No contact whatsoever. Next move you make toward him, consider that that fine fine line has been crossed."

Hutch stood up straighter now and waved his arm sweepingly as if to allow Ryan passage.

Ryan was looking less certain now and looked outside to his younger officers.

"Well then, I may as well tell you Hutchinson, that I actually saw your partner and talked with him earlier today – this morning in fact. I believe he may have been on his way back from seeing his shrink – well that is what I surmised anyway, from what he said and how, well lets say, how he looked and what he was doing."

He hesitated with the information about the shrink when he realized that he might have implied that he had in fact been tailing Starsky.

Hutch tensed and immediately leaned forward to Ryan and grabbed at his collar.

"You have gone to him again! After what you have already done? You bastard…..I just told you….."

'Hey, hey – wait on here man, I am trying to give you the heads up on your partner here. Perhaps you haven't been paying enough attention to your partner given your new little recruit out there." He threw his head to the side to indicate Riley who had long finished with the other officers and was watching the interchange between the two keenly.

"I didn't go to Starsky as you say, I passed his car, saw it during a cruise. Pretty hard car to miss – so just pulled in. He didn't look so good Hutchinson."

"What the hell are you saying here you manipulating asshole? Don't game play with me. Why would Starsky be in your stamping ground? That's nowhere he would normally be."

"Hey ask him. But I can tell you where he was. He was coming out of a liquor store, well armed with supplies of the strong stuff and he looked rough already. I got the feeling he was going to hit it hard after he drove off."

Hutch was trying very hard to quell his own mounting concern and to look indifferent to Ryan's news.

"As if Starsky would tell you anything about himself or how he was feeling. You are a complete and utter sick liar. What is it with him Ryan? Why can't you leave him alone you poor depraved bastard? I've actually got beyond caring who you may need to use for your sexual gratification – just leave Starsky alone."

As he shifted now and caught Riley's eye, he reached up and brushed down the collar of Ryan's rumpled shirt where he had forcibly grabbed him before.

"I am officially tired of you Ryan. This is the last time we'll talk. If there is a next time it won't be an exchange of words. The only words will be the statement I will be giving to the IA about you and your – um – personal proclivities for other male officers."

"Listen Hutchinson – you're the one who responded to my crime scene – you could have driven away when you called it into control – saw that it was already covered. Don't fool yourself. You like to make out that this is all on my side, that I'm the one pushing into your lives but you're pushing my buttons whenever you get the opportunity. You're stepping across my line too you know. Perhaps you should ask yourself what's in it for you?"

"What's in it for me? The same thing that has always been it for me, since that first night way back in the Academy when I understood what you were after with Starsky. When I realized what a twisted mind you have. You came back into his life Ryan – you have done nothing but insinuate yourself into Starsky's space and to threaten his well being since you got it into your disturbed head that you wanted him for whatever perverted reasons you harbor. So when you threaten my partner's well being, there is a lot in it for me Ryan. I'll be around continuing to push your buttons for as long as I perceive that you are pushing Starsky's. So for the last time, keep _away_ _from my partner_."

With a final long warning look at Ryan, he walked toward Riley, nodding his head.

"Time to roll again Riley. We've done our bit here. Can you go call us in?"

"Hutchinson? Take my advice. Starsky is a problem. If I were you, if he was my partner, I would be keeping a close eye on him. He's one step away from total self destruction."

In a weary tone that Hutch hoped did not in any way convey or display his rising anxiety, the blond languidly slid into his car.

"But that is just it Ryan. Starsky _isn't_ your partner."

_His self-destruction is on your head Ryan. You will pay for it eventually. _

But he leaned down to insert his car keys, Hutch was already planning out how he might go through control again to patch through to his partner or whether in fact it would be better to try to get to a phone. He only just hoped that Ryan's words were hollow threats aimed at unsettling him and not based on any real substance.

Deep down though, he already knew that this time, Ryan has spoken some truth. He had seen enough of Starsky's self loathing already to know that although it was a baited barb, Ryan had correctly measured his partner's steady decline.

_Christ Starsk, this is all getting too hard._

"Sorry Riley, but I need to find a phone booth. And- I may need to drop you back at the precinct. I need to – ah – I might need –"

This time Riley wanted let Hutch know he was already with him – on the same wavelength and prepared to back him up.

"You sure you don't want me to come in case….. if I can help in anyway?"

"Thanks partner, but the time has come for me to work this out once and for all. Dobey will have my ass if I drag you in on this – its best that you let me take the heat for whatever is going on with that hardheaded buddy of mine."

There's a payphone up here on the left and then, I'll drop you back. I can get you at the desk if I need you ok?"

The car slowed , braked and Hutch alighted.

A few minutes later as Riley watched Hutch smash his open hand into the side of the glass booth, and curse loud enough for him to be heard from the parked car, Riley already knew that he might be waiting at the precinct for quite some time.

oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOooo

The music was too loud and too tinny.

The lighting too dim and the air too thick with stale smoke and even staler beer.

The surroundings were at once unfamiliar in that he had not been here before but depressingly familiar in the way that he had sat in this harsh and tainted reality so many times since he had been off the streets. In the past weeks he had dragged himself through so many of these places that that it was now hard to distinguish one from all of the others.

Seedy bar just got seedier. And for him, well as a new personal record, drunk had just got a bit drunker.

Starsky estimated that he was three quarters drunk – half drunk when he had left his apartment around an hour earlier and then two shots in at this unsavoury bar, he figured a guess that he was now another quarter along the scale of being seriously drunk. Not, he thought bemused with his own self-appraisal, could he convincingly believe his own mathematical calculations. Mathematical equations were long past his ability at this point and phrasing a sentence was fast becoming a physical challenge.

Either way he was feeling out of it and getting further out with each passing moment as the alcohol left his stomach and reached his already concentrated blood stream.

He allowed himself a moment of self-recrimination for having left his home to come out. Not a smart move after consuming most of the bottle of whisky he had picked up early that morning. Not a smart move at all.

But then, it had got to him. Sitting first on his couch and then slumped on his floor. It had got to him. The imprint of that superior expression, that conceited sneer, that open look of pure sexual hunger. Ryan's face would not go away and in the silence of his own apartment, with only a bottle to keep the images at bay, Starsky could take no more.

Ryan had got to him yet again – this time just figuratively but the impact was now so raw that it may have well been literal in its assault on his bruised and battered soul.

Perhaps, he had dared to hope, wrongly it would now seem, that if he was to just surround himself with other people, he could rid himself of the dark image.

_Wrong again you fool! He's still here with you. He's all around you and in you. His hands are on you, touching and pulling at you. Hurting you, humiliating you. He is never going to leave you alone and no amount of liquor and no seedy bar and company of others is ever going to make him go away._

There was only ever one person's company that could help take Starsky away from the painful recesses in his own mind. He allowed himself to think of that face now, to bring to his dulled senses the achingly familiar and soothing sound of his voice, the comforting touch of his hand, the quieting of his soft blue eyes. But for a long while now Starsky had retreated from that haven and had effectively shut himself away from that person's remedial force. In his drunken haze now he tried to remember why he had done that. Why was he here right now feeling like this, feeling like he was being consumed by pain and misery when he had only to reach out to that one person who could make it better? He searched his own befuddled mind. It had all become too complicated, too messy, too layered up with fears and risks. In the past he had never hesitated to gratefully take whatever consolation his partner and friend was offering to him. And in the past there was never any shortage of such offerings. Still wasn't. Nothing had changed on Hutch's side. He was still the same Hutch. Dependable and safe. Secure and protective. Hutch was still there just waiting to do what Hutch did so well. Be his salvation.

_It's me who has changed. Me who has pulled away. Why am I doing this to myself? To Hutch? Am I trying to punish him for what has happened to me? For what has not happened to him? _

_Why am I here alone and Hutch is out there somewhere else?_

_Has he left me or have I left him? Have I locked him away from me or has he put me here by siding with Dobey? Can he truly understand what Ryan has done to me? Is the divide just too great now between us? _

When he looked up from his drink he caught the somewhat wary barman looking at him with more than a hint of disproval - something that was more akin to dislike. Starsky didn't know why. After all, he was just sitting here on a bar stool, self-absorbed along with his self-annihilating thoughts. What could be the man's problem?

Then he turned and the reflection in the bar mirror gave him part of his answer.

_Well, shit. That is not a good look Dave. Not a good look at all. If Blondie were here right now he would be hauling my ass out of here quick fast. He certainly would not be permitting me to order yet another drink which I am just about to do. _

The man in the mirror was dangerous. His dark curly hair was unkempt and unruly, a dark shadow of beard covering his lower face. The mouth was twisted, the eyes narrowed and wary. The faintest of bruises still tinged the olive skin and pinkish fine scars on and near his mouth and temple were prefaces to a long story of violence and pain. The man's body was coiled and tight and hunkered over his drink. The face and the body posture seem to signal, "Enter at own Risk."

No wonder the barman was looking at him like he was some kind of threatening local hood.

_Look what you have become Starsky. Look where Ryan has put you, what he has made you. Stand up now. Shake it off. Walk away. Go phone Hutch. Let him take all of this away from you. What the hell is stopping you?_

The clarity was suddenly intense and the conviction to move and follow through was strong. Starsky was suddenly so very tired. He didn't want to go from three quarters drunk to fully drunk. Suddenly the whole exercise seemed fruitless and exhausting. It was taking far too much of his diminished strength to accompolish eradication of feeling . No matter how hard he drank he could not seem to get ahead of the beast that was his own self disgust, biting and nipping at his heels. He just couldn't run fast enough or drink enough to keep ahead of it. It was clear that no amount of alcohol would take away the despair that ran through his veins.

The legacy of Ryan.

The legacy of what Ryan had done to him and how he had made him feel.

It was all of a sudden so clear to him now that he wanted only one thing. Too tired to be alone in this corner of wretchedness anymore – he pushed the glass away and patted for the keys to his Torino.

He would go home and phone Hutch at the station. Somehow he knew that Hutch would work it all out for him. All he had to do was to let him in, to share this private hell that he had so far refused his partner to access. It was going to be all ok now.

_No more pretenses. I can't do it alone anymore buddy. I need you. Thought I could do it alone and keep you out of all of this, but I can't. Need your help. Need you._

The bar stool moved under his weight as he uncoiled his legs to stand unsteadily.

The unmistakeable perception of a body nearby had him wary in an instant but then catching sight of a feminine form he immedialtely relaxed his guard.

"Hey hope you're not leaving. I just got up the courage to say hello to you."

A silky, almost smoky voice sounded at his side and a slender white hand came down beside him to place a glass on the bar counter next to his now half empty one.

Distraction to his momentarily clear-headed motives came into view. He took in the sight of the distraction – it was easy on the eyes. She was easy on the eyes. Very easy. But he tried to keep his befuddled brain focused on his line of thought. That he wanted to exit this place and go home. That he wanted nothing more now than to fold, to give in – to reach out for his lifeline that he had been denying now for weeks.

He needed his partner. This distraction beside him albeit a very tantalizing one was not what he needed or wanted right now. What he needed and so yearned for was the company of the one person who knew him better than he knew himself.

His hardened face softened a little as he tried his best to act human and not too impatient with the attractive woman beside him.

"Err – sorry. But that's it for me to night. Gotta' get on the road. Been here long enough already."

"Oh…" she gave him a long appraising look and took in the angular lines of his face and body. His body hardened and honed now by weight loss and illness, his face granite hard from emotional pain and contained anger. Her eyes showed that she liked what she saw – she liked all of it. Her eyes showed that she wanted what she saw.

She wanted him.

Her light fingers on his shoulder and arm told him that she was interested in what he didn't have to give her. Bad timing, he thought with an inward smile. Any other time and he would be only to happy to oblige her invitation with a healthy response. But – no – not tonight.

"Please. Just stay and have one drink with me. I – we can shoot the breeze for just a little while. Chill together. You look like you could use it."

He gave her a half smile. "I don't think that another drink is what I could use right about now. Have had far too many already. "

"Well then, what is one more then? Just for me. It's been so boring in here and then I have seen you and you look so much like you could use a listening ear. So how about it? What are you drinking? My shout."

The heavy sigh was resigned. He was always hopeless with disappointing women and was a sucker for a pretty, pouty, petulant face. And, she was so attractive, her small hand so warm, her hair so shiny and her smell so feminine and intoxicating.

She was all female to his current rugged and ragged all male countenance. The sapped energy and the masculine strength that had left his ailing body weeks ago now flickered in his dormant loins. He had not felt a sexual, sensual tug like this since before he had cared for Hutch during all those long weeks of his heroin addiction recovery.

Hell, he could not even recall when he'd last got laid.

Could not recall when his cock had begun to make its presence felt inside his tight jeans.

He pushed violently at the memory of long smooth fingers and rough movements on his balls and flaccid cock.

_NO! _

The flickering in his groin dissipated instantly and his partly aroused manhood shrunk in the face of the sickening memory of the predator that was Ryan.

She was gone from his side now. Moved up the bar to talk to the beady-eyed barman, busy arranging a round of drinks.

What could it hurt to stay for one more drink with her?

He studied her cute packaging while she conferred with the barman. Hot little body, sweet disposition. Hands that did not feel like Ryan's. Hands that were all female and nurturing. Perhaps she could make his cock feel alive and not dirty and assaulted.

Perhaps…..

_Coming out to a bar when you were three quarters drunk was not a good idea Starsky. Letting this little number in will be another on the list of not such good ideas._

As she sashayed back to him with a drink in each hand and a mischievous glint in her eye, he knew for certain that going any further with her right now was definitely not a good idea.

Watching her tight little body bounce down on the stool beside him again, he took the drink she offered him. He vowed now to himself that he would follow his own guidance – just one brief drink, a few kind words and then he would leave for home.

oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOooo

She handed him the drink and as she did her fingers brushed over his olive skinned hand.

_God he was hot._ _Hot and mean_ _looking but with a soft sort of center._

His eyes saved him from complete hardness. They were so blue and dark and mesmerizing even though clouded with alcohol. His lean body was all muscle and his rugged good looks smacked of masculinity and sheer sexuality. This dark haired moody man had been in her sights for about an hour as she had watched him from the corner of the room. Most men didn't do it for her – well a lot sure didn't. But this guy was just the sort of man she could get really bothered by- in a good way. Even before she went to order the drinks she knew she was interested in him and could feel the sexual pull of his looks and character –that sullen quiet violence. It thrilled her and enticed her.

But it was the barman's words that had sealed her decision to go all out now for a play on this guy.

She had gone to get another round – making hers a double. She wanted to catch up just a little to his level of emotional detachment and she knew it would make her even more excited to have some chemical buzz on board.

The barman recognized her from previous visits to this gritty little place. She had been here a few times as it was almost a risky thrill to dance around its corrosive edges, to dip into its inherent badness. Not of course that she had ever gone much further than that…just enjoyed the fantasies that this sort of establishment sometimes offered her. Her age group tended to hang out in far more staid, safer haunts where trouble and men rarely walked together. Trouble and men were what turned her on most. They were both found here in this bar. But until now, till this guy, she had not really hit the jackpot with finding the two elements together in the one perfect example of rough masculinity. Yes, she decided, this man was a study in tortured manhood and all at once she needed to find out more about him.

The barman had taken it upon himself to put her in the picture.

"Hey – watch yourself with him."

"What? What's it to you? I don't remember you being in charge of me."

"Look, I've seen you here before. You're not meant for this sort of place. You are trying hard to look the part but I see types like you all the time in joints like this. Ply on the makeup and dress up to present the image. Might work for the guys on the other side of the bar but not from this side. I know what happens to girls like you who think you can handle guys in places like this. I'm telling you now."

"Listen it isn't any of your business who I talk to or what I do. You know nothing about me."

The barman threw his head toward Starsky who was looking down at his clenched hands and not at either him or the girl.

"I know you better than you think. You are one of so many who come in here with the same ideas. You young lady, you're not meant for the likes of him. He's trouble."

"Trouble how?"

"Look at him girl. He's not your type and not your age and he's in bad shape. Couple of the other patrons know of him. He's a tough street cop and it sounds as though he's in some sort of trouble and has had his Detective badge stripped."

"Wow. How come you get to hear all of this stuff?"

He gave a surprised and genuine snort.

"You asking me that? I'm a bartender! That's what bartenders in slimy joints like this do. We get to know everything about everyone. I'm telling you for ya' own good as you seem like a nice girl even though you're trying to act like you're not. Keep away from him. You can tell he's recently been beaten up badly. Look at his face. Somethin' bout him just screams trouble and danger. Take the advice or leave it. I don't much care. But if you were my sister, I'd be making sure you walked away from him right now."

"Well I sure am not your sister, so give me those drinks. I can take care of myself. He isn't anything I can't handle. Anyway you said yourself. He's a cop. How dangerous can he be?"

The barman just shrugged his shoulders and found his interest once more focused on the small towel and the glasses he was cleaning.

"Suit yourself, but don't say I didn't warn you."

As she watched the curly haired stranger pick up his drink and eye her steadily she sucked in her rapid breath.

_Oh man. Not only was he moody and hot and trying to be unavailable, the icing was now on the cake. He was a cop for God's sake. A cop!_

Nothing more, no other piece of news could have spurred her on in the interest department. Her pursuit of this man had just quadrupled. A dark broody older guy, full of life's experience and all that wrapped up in a label that stirred her dreams. There was no better piece of warning advice that the barman could have given her to drive her headlong now into this man's clutches than to reveal that he was a cop.

She now could match his lethal energy and guarded behavior with her own rioting fantasy of him as a gun wielding police officer. Nothing more turned her on like the word "Cop".

His still apparent semi disinterest was now her total focus. Within the time that this drink was finished she aimed to have this man succumbing to her. Frissons of excitement filled her head and she liked to think too, in her own maturing female way, filled her pelvis. Yes, she was all woman, not a girly girl like her goody two shoe friends. No nice private school or college boys for her. She wanted to fill her senses with a _real_ man. This guy, well - he was the ticket.

Tomorrow when her friends were giggling and comparing notes about their "hot" dates, she would smugly hold to herself the knowledge that she alone knew what it was to have the attention and the experience with a real male, a male cop – not some pimply freshman.

She gulped down two quick big mouthfuls of the strong drink and she was proud to not even cough or splutter once. Her hand moved now and settled at first tentatively and then more purposefully on the muscled thigh next to her. The tight denim was stretched across the man's pelvis. She had already seen his ass when he had stood before. God did she want a bit of that?

Hell yes.

"Hey my name's Cindy. What's yours?"


	5. Chapter 5

**Then Neither Can He**

**Chapter Five**

His hot breath was on her face and she felt the harsh rasp of his light covering of dark beard.

This was not how it was supposed to be.

This was not going how she had planned it in her mind.

He was not how she had wanted him at all. He was not acting how she had wanted him to act.

His weight too was heavy, his hands too insistent, his teeth too sharp on her ear and her shoulder.

His attention was not on her so much as through her. She was with him, beside him, under him, but he was no where near her. The dark curly haired man with the heavy five o'clock shadow and the grim face was somewhere else and only his body was trying to be with her.

To use her.

The worst of it though was his eyes.

He was not really looking at her but looking through her, beyond her. Almost as if he was looking at something behind her, or looking inside himself at his own mind, his own thoughts. It was not about her at all. She was starting to feel as though he really wasn't even aware she was there in spirit just her physical body, her flesh - young, pliant flesh that he was now crushing and squeezing too hard. Oblivious to her, perhaps oblivious to himself.

She strained to free part of herself from the pinion of this man's hardened body.

For the first time now she felt the licks of real fear and mounting threat from this man whom only a while ago she thought she could entice with her new repertoire of seductive skills.

Perhaps the barman had been right, perhaps she should have paid more attention to his warnings.

She thought back to the bar where she had come on to this man called Dave only an hour earlier. Had it only been an hour earlier?

In her mind she saw the dark blue eyes looking at her with almost sleepy semi interest as he finished off the drinks they she had brought back to their seats.

After she had told him her name he shrugged, smiled and replied.

"David – you can call me Dave. So Cindy what's it to be here?"

He looked down at her hand. She had ran it experimentally across his upper hard thigh and her eyes openly took in his jean-clad pelvis. She let them linger there for a while before bringing what she hoped was a seductive gaze back up to his face.

"What do you mean? Just having a drink with you Dave. Just want to sit here and share a drink together."

He spared her a lazy, almost sardonic half grin.

"From where I'm sitting Honey it sure looks like ya' doin more with ya' hands than just holdin' a glass."

He picked up her hand and gently disengaged it from his upper thigh moving it lower to his knee.

"Might want to keep that hand away from there for now. That's a better place for it. Safer for you."

Brazen now and excited and flattered that he obviously found her daring moves a come on, she quickly lifted the repositioned hand to move it around to the his lower back where his shirt tails had pulled loose from his butt hugging jeans. Her fingers snuck under the cotton shirt and her fingernail ran across his lower back, edging a little under the hip band of his jeans. She felt his skin and muscles contract under her touch and used her fingernails to graze his taut skin even more.

He turned more toward her now and narrowed his eyes trying to gauge her intentions.

"So Cindy seems that hand of yours has a mind of its own. It sure ain't behavin' itself now is it? "

She giggled and then quickly checked herself and modulated her response, changing the pitch and quality to what she hoped was more of a sultry laugh. Girls giggled, women did not. Tonight she was all woman. Tonight she was "Cindy"...far more evocative than "Sandy". "Sandy" just wouldn't do tonight. She had spent an awful long time on her dressing and make-up, the high shoes the finishing touch. Up until she had seen this guy walk into the bar though she had begun to think that her choice of venue was a lost cause. He was the first interesting specimen of mankind that had paraded in front of her since she had taken her seat in the corner of the gritty downtown joint.

Once more the rough edged man moved his hand around to his lower back to catch hers as it continued its exploration into the inside of tight jeans.

"Oh my hands know what they want and how they want it. Right now my hand is thinking that it would like to run over your nice sexy butt. You do have such a lovely butt Dave. "

He spluttered a little and looked a little shocked and disbelieving.

That only made her feel angry.

_He's not taking me seriously. He thinks I'm too young and too inexperienced!_

"What's wrong Dave? Never heard a woman say what she wants like that?"

"Oh Darlin' , I've heard it plenty of times, but not quite in that way or from someone like you. Let's say you don't strike me as being quite the type to say stuff like that."

She scowled and increased her hand's exploration of his lower back. Slowly she crept it around to encroach toward the front of his taut abdomen.

"So Cindy girl. How old are you?"

"Twenty – five"

_God! That was too quick. Should have hesitated and looked more mysterious_.

"Twenty- five huh? Well than twenty- five year old Cindy, you reckon ya know what you're headin' for here - with me right now? With that hand of yours?"

"Like I said, Dave, I know what I want and I'm looking at it."

He grunted now and looked about the room, thinking before he spoke again. She could tell he was quite drunk and very tired. Desperately she felt that she had only a tenuous hold on him – his interest was barely aroused and if anything he looked like he wanted to walk away. What was she doing wrong here? She knew she looked her best, was saying the right things, moving the right way. But still this closed off semi-rough, sexy man remained elusive and distant.

She was not about to give up on what would be a prize for her and a great talking piece amongst her friends. He would make all of the girl's conquests look like a joke. Imagine when they heard she had been with someone like this guy? All man, hard edged, older guy, and wow, a cop! She needed to pull out the stops to try to keep this pursuit moving forward.

"Ok, I can see that you don't find me attractive. Forget it. Obviously you have other things on your mind - or someone else on your mind. Sorry I bothered you Dave."

She gave a slow half hearted move to grab at her purse and turn away. If this feminine wile did not work than she would have to accept that she had struck out with this edgy enigma.

"Look – ah – Cindy. Sit, wait. Just listen. Ya' can see that I am tanked, or at least three parts there. I've had a rough day, a rough week - hell - just rough period. I came here to drink and wallow. I'm not in the mood for any girly games. But - hey? I like your hands and your moves just fine but ya' need to know where that sorta' stuff is gonna get ya' if ya' keep pressin'. If you're not interested in what I'm interested in, than now is the time to go."

Relief rushed through her.

"Of course I'm interested. Don't you think I know what I'm doing here with you? What I really want?"

"Don't know darlin'. Don't know you, don't know nothin' bout you or what you want. Only what I want. All I'm sayin' is that you wanna keep doin' that stuff with your hands its fine by me – but no games – not tonight. Not in the mood for games. I was leavin' when ya came up to me. I'm leavin' now. Ya' can come with me, or go now. Your decision – your choice Honey. But be clear where this will head."

There was a moment's uncertainty as she thought a little disappointedly that she would have rather remained here at the bar for a while longer yet. Stretch out the night here where others were around and others could perhaps see her with this hunky, devilish guy. Not of course that it was likely that anyone she knew would be showing up in this sort of dive. But, leaving with him so soon was not on her agenda. She didn't like the idea of having her stage removed from under her. Her performance had barely got off the ground.

But if she refused…

He has already stood, very unsteadily she noticed. Swaying and stumbling a little as he bundled out some notes to throw on the counter. There was also shock when she saw him withdraw car keys from his tight pocket. Surely he would not drive in such an intoxicated state. But she knew that of course he intended to – after all he was a cop and would find ways out of any incident that he might get into with the law.

"So sweetheart? Are you comin' or stayin'? Is it a "yes" or a "no" "?

She took a brave breath.

"It's a yes."

oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOooo

"So you haven't seen or heard from him today"?

Hutch was leaning anxiously across the counter looking all around Huggy's Bar as if perhaps Starsky might be lurking is some corner unbeknown to his skinny black friend.

"Jeez man, I told you. He ain't be here for days. Zippo from him on the phone too – not a word or a how'd ya' be on any front. My bar has been Starsky- less for the past week or more. Come to think of it, my bar has been totally Starsky-Hutchless for a while now. What gives Blondie? Too busy to visit Huggy Bear for a beer and a burger?"

He changed his tone and demeanor as soon as he watched the pale face in front of him cave in with concern and resignation.

"So I'm gatherin' here that things are no better with our curly haired friend and you, my man, are running at both ends tryin' to watch out for him and still do your job?"

"If he damn well stayed at home, I would not need to keep running from both ends Hug. But he is in bad place and getting further and further away from me. I'm worried that he is going to end up back in hospital or worse with his cavalier attitude. He's drinking and careless and unresponsive – won't answer his damn phone. I don't even know where he is now! I just assumed he would be here – at least you could keep your eye on him for me."

"Don't think he wants that Hutch. Last time he was here if you remember, he was none to happy with how we handled his little party tricks in the bar. Not likely to be back. I can ask around and see if any of my other friendly bar establishments have the low down of his whereabouts. But I don't have to tell you – there are a damn lot of bars he could be crawlin' into between here and just a quarter the way across the city."

Hutch ran his hand through his hair and pulled Huggy's arm out to snag a look at his wristwatch.

He gave a little sad smile. "Err – sorry, usually have Starsk's arm to do that with – just used to it you know."

"I know, I know man. One day you will wear a watch like all of we other normal people. Hey, I feel for you man. You miss him don't you? Miss him by your side? And – not just for his time telling arm."

His big mouth smiled fondly at the blond.

"It's been one terrible, terrible time Hug. I just want it all finished and for things to go back to normal. Whatever that is. Yeah – just have us back on the streets as partners and no fuckin' Ryan shitting all over our lives."

"Well then firstly, you need to get that stubborn moody partner of yours to come out of his sorry shell and work with ya' and not against ya'. You've always managed it in the past. If you can't do it no-one can."

"I really hope I can Hug. Look it's after ten, surely he must be getting home soon. I've called and been to his place twice – but I'm going back again before I head back to Park Central. Call me there if you hear or see him ok? Or, if you get word on his whereabouts from any of your other bar cronies."

Hutch pushed away from the bar.

"And Hug – thanks for the support. Can always count on you to understand us."

The quiet din of his bar blanketed him as he watch the tall lean blond walk away with a dejected air about his lanky form.

He wondered if Hutch was even aware how he had used the term "us" rather than "Starsky" or "him".

Such was the bond of the two men. It was Starsky who was messed up and needy right now, but regardless, his blond other half was automatically and equally affected. Hurt and pain was never just one sided with the pair. IfStarsky was messed up, than so too was Hutch.

And man, thought the reed thin black, was he ever hurting right now.

oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOooo

"Huh? What the? …where ya' goin? We were just gettin' comfy here."

She was struggling up now, trying to semi sit and pull herself to the corner of the soft couch while grappling at her blouse to pull it back over her bra exposed chest and shoulders. Her shaking hands reached down to smooth and tug at her too tight skirt to pull it back down to cover her upper thighs and panties.

"Ahhhh….well…..Dave. I was just thinking. Why don't we have another drink? After all you haven't even show me your place. We got here and – you just straight away... Well, what's the hurry? We've got all night. "

He sat back a little now with his head tipped slightly to the side and his eyes once more narrowed. The breath from his thinned mouth was a little ragged and reeking of whisky. His shirt was fully unbuttoned and she was at once enticed by his muscular chest with its pelt of dark hair and a little disturbed by the fact that it was so close to her so suddenly. That it had been on top of her so quickly after they had entered his apartment.

He had in fact been on her as soon as he had thrown down his car keys and wallet on the coffee table and kicked off his shoes.

"Darlin' I didn't bring ya' here for another drink or to show ya' my etchin's. Thought I made that pretty clear back in the bar? I'm beat, but I'm also feelin' your soft little arms, your long long legs and smellin' your pretty hair. So, as long as I can do all that I'm all yours honey. Where are those hands of yours with a mind of their own? Did you leave em' back at the bar? "

The compact muscular body moved up the couch again toward her and his dark haired arm and hand moved up to grab just a little roughly at her neck and side of her face. His mouth pressed down so quickly it took her unawares and his tongue invaded her painted lips and forced itself into her mouth. Once more the length of him, the hardness of him was on top of her, pressing her deeper into the couch. His fingers moved inside her bra and with no time wasted he had cupped her small breast and was pinching at her nipple too, too hard.

He was growling now and talking in low deep tones. She thought she caught some dirty words but was too shocked to take it all in. He moved a lot faster than any of the cologne scented college boys she had known. In fact he smelled a lot different to them too. She caught the waft of strong liquor, earthy almost woody scents and in the background a hint of musky masculine sweat.

"Now that is better honey. Let me at these. Oh yeah….nice breasts. Nice soft round breasts with lil' rosebuds for me. Oh yeah! Fuck they feel so soft and mmnnnn….I wan' em both."

No ! This was all too fast and not what she had envisaged. He was supposed to talk to her about what had caused him to look so angry, so lost. Confide in her about being a cop, why he was looking so tortured and bitter. She was supposed to be stroking his hair and letting him gently kiss her face. She was the one who was going to run her hands along the hard planes of his abdomen – but only teasingly.

It was supposed to be like this! She was doing nothing. Nothing, except trying to slow him down and to move away from his rough touch and insistent probing of her body.

_Oh God! _

Her skirt was now jerked up roughly, he had it almost around her waist, and his strong hands were dipping down into her panty line.

She coughed hard and then feigned another. Pushed hard against him and turned to the side with another exaggerated cough.

"Oh – Oh – I need some water. Sorry, sorry, need a drink. This cough. Dave, please, let me just get some water. I need to get up. "

"Jes - us Christ!"

He pulled back roughly and she could see from the darkened face that he was none too happy and none too convinced by her act. He threw himself back against the couch, stretching out his legs and to her utter surprise, lifted his pelvis off the couch and unsnapped his jeans and let his zip down half way. It did not take too much to work out that he was trying to take the pressure of his burgeoning erection.

"In the kitchen – glasses on the stand."

Any act of civility was gone. He didn't care she realized now. What did she expect she thought harshly to herself? This guy was now acting more like a wild animal and not the cool, mysterious man she had concocted in her fantasy at the bar.

_Well he could at least act a little concerned and get the water for me. Bring it to my side and check I was ok. _

Returning from the kitchen with a glass of water she did not want she gave another half hearted cough but could see it was lost on the broody man who lay with his head thrown back and his still prominent crotch stretched out from the couch – his legs crossed at the ankles.

He barely looked at her with his half closed eyes.

She kept away from the couch and walked around the living room feigning interest in her surroundings, sipping at her water.

"So Dave. You're a cop?"

That got his attention. He pulled himself upright now and grimaced at the pull of his too tight jeans. His eyes were wary now and there was anger there now – had been all evening – but this time the anger was for her.

"How the hell do you know that?"

"Oh don't worry – the barman told me. Seems they know lots of things about people. So is it true? Are you a cop?"

" Not now I'm not."

She was just grateful to have moved the ball from the court of aggressive petting to conversation – albeit very limited and jaded conversation.

"Want to talk about it?"

Now he openly sneered and gave her a look that withered her slowly rekindled bravado.

"What the fuck? Who do you think you are askin' me that sort of shit? Look – thought it was clear that we came here for a good time to round off the evenin'. So either we dance or there's the door. Don't know if ya fully realize it, but men don't exactly appreciate gettin' blue balled and then left hangin'. "

Part of her knew she shouldn't do it – shouldn't take it any further, push him any further. But it was this side of him, this insolent, sullen, black mooded side that turned her on and she was just naïve enough to believe that she had the feminine prowess to move him from his overtly sexual mood to a more softly sensual and needy one.

"Well I'm here Dave. I'm here and I want to listen to you about what happened that you're not a cop right now. Did you kill someone or beat someone up? Cops lose their badges for doing stuff like that don't they?"

She dared to walk up to him again and sit close, her hand on the nape of his neck. She was going for nurturing and solace now – he would realize what she had to offer. He would sense her womanly, caring, sensuality not just raw sex for sex sake.

"I'm right here, and I have all the time to hear what you need to say. I want you to talk to me and let me help you."

A shutter came down over his eyes.

He laughed almost cruelly and shook his head.

"I can't believe you're standin' there sayin' such bullshit. Is this crap you usually try on with guys you meet in bars? Come on with the tease and then start up this rubbish?"

"Hey, usually people talk and get to know each other before they do what you seem to want to do. You practically jumped on me as soon as we got here. That's not how relationships work Dave."

"Oh Jesus...relationship... talk...what the hell are you on about? You seem to be forgettin' that it was your hand that was doin' all the suggestin' back in that dump of a bar you were hangin' out in. Why were you there of all places if you were hopin' to hit up a "relationship" ? It's a cheap and dirty waterin' hole not the sorta place ya' go to start a freakin' relationship."

Starsky scrubbed hard at his dark shadowing beard and felt totally frustrated and more than pissed off with this over made up woman in front of him.

"Look perhaps ya' better go. This was a bad idea to begin with - you coming back here. Let's just call it a night and agree that we each don't have what the other needs or wants right now ok? I'm beat."

_Why the hell did I bring her back here ? I should have just left and come home as I'd planned. Was gonna phone Hutch. Shoulda' phoned Hutch. Now I'm saddled with this stupid woman who is pushing me the wrong way fast._

The look of exhausted disgust he gave her had her quickly changing her tact again. She was losing him completely and she would have nothing left to show for the evening if she couldn't at least keep him on the line - maybe draw him in enough so that he would contact her again for a date when he was more sober. She could see the look on her friend's faces when she casually dropped that she was seeing an older guy who was a deep and dark cop.

"No - look. Wait. I can see you're hurting Dave, that's why you're angry with me. I can kiss you and make it better Dave. Let me make it better for you and take away that hurt in your eyes. I'm sure you could do with someone like me to help you feel better about what might have happened to you."

She reached up to his face and caught his hair in her hands. Standing on her toes she kissed his lips and pushed her hips closer to his, experimenting a little with her own pressure. It felt good to be in control and to watch him move toward her now and to accept what she had to offer him. This was better. Now she was playing the part that she had imagined.

She relaxed her hold on his face now and pulled back to talk some more and slow down his now re-flickering response to her advances. But he had her hands firmly once more and he was not letting her pull back and away. The eyes that had been semi closed and indifferent now carried the unmistakeable haze of heavy lust.

Too late she realized she had misread him totally and misjudged him and the whole situation.

"Oh you can make it better Darlin'. You can make it better alright. I'm so ready for ya' to do that for me."

His rough grasp which had been covering her hand at the front of his body pulled it savagely away, directing it lower, much lower to his bulging crotch. His other hand pushed her hard now, down on the couch so that she was half falling to the side of it, her arm and one leg dangling crudely to the side.

The sound of her blouse ripping open and her own stunned cries as his hard body ground into her pelvis was in her ears, intermingled with his more animalistic grunts and lurid words. The hand that he had held so tightly in his fist now was brushed up against a rock hard piece of flesh. She hadn't even been aware when he'd released himself from his tight jeans. He pulled her fingers, holding them hard as he wrapped them around his swollen, turgid erection.

Alarmed beyond belief now she tried not to look at the flesh that was pushing against her hand. His teeth were biting hard, nipping her breast and sucking too hard on her nipple. The more she cried out the more he sucked and bit down.

"Ok , Ok, Oh Yeah…I'm rock hard for ya' lil' lady. It's all yours. You wanna play with the cop. Than here it is. Don't have no gun but I sure do have this for ya'. You wanna cop? That's a turn on for ya? Well let me give it to ya'. …."

Then there was some clarity, a hot breathy admonishment from him.

"So stupid. So stupid. Told you to go. Shoulda' gone. Can't stop now – stupid, stupid girl."

She thought she caught a cry of despair in the words before the assault on her body intensified. With her skirt already jacked up high around her waist, he used his swollen cock to push its way into the top of her hipster panties, pushing them away from her hips with each thrust. She could already feel his wetness dampening her hand and panties.

"So close already baby. Not gonna take me long."

Then all semblance of normal flow of speech was gone and in its place was toppling, escalating whispers and groans. "Baby... fuck... pussy... cock"... dirty words from a mind that was focused on only one singular basic, physiological endpoint. It was not even, she appreciated, that he any longer had a choice in his actions. His cerebral function had long since given open licence to his more basic instincts.

It was all too late. Too too late now.

There would be no bragging to her friends tomorrow. Only shame and fear and…God would she even be here tomorrow?

The man on the couch was now verging on all animal.

The barman had been right all along.

This man _was_ dangerous.

oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooO OOooo

It was later than he had realized.

As he pulled the beaten up LTD in close to the driveway near Starsky's apartment he finished patching into Riley back at the precinct, letting him know that he was on his final ditch effort to locate his missing partner before conceding defeat and heading back in for the night. There was not a lot of action around that night anyway, and he had allowed other units to pick up and respond to call in's, but the cop in him knew he couldn't leave his duty post for much longer. It was not fair on Riley and in the end was not helping him nor Starsky. He could spend all night and the next day combing bars for his wayward partner. If he couldn't locate him, how the hell was he supposed to support him?

More than six hours of looking for his partner, since hearing Ryan's taunting threats about Starsky, Hutch was weary, frazzled and just more than a little furious. As he killed the engine and looked about at the so familiar surroundings feeling of foreboding coursed through him. Not sure why, he thought, as there finally in the driveway was the freaking Torino! About damn time was all he could think.

The foreboding jumped on his shoulder, pressed down hard and caught his walk right across the driveway and up the stairs.

_Of all the fool hardy, irresponsible, self-absorbed behavior! He must know that I'm worried. Must know that I'm out here looking for him? Stupid dumbass. I will kick his butt when I finally see him and let him know what he putting me through. I've got enough on my plate with worrying about him and young Riley, and Ryan without stupid meathead going completely AWOL and scaring the shit out of me._

He looked up at Starsky's apartment and could catch only a dim light emanating from the window. Hopefully he was asleep and had left the lamps on but he would go in and check all the same. Maybe his concern and fear and futile running about the city looking for him had all been for noithing. Maybe yet again Ryan had used his sick and evil twist to provide exaggerated leverage to a situation that was well beyond reality.

Maybe Starsk was getting it together , seeing the shrink and feeding his soul with all that he needed to regroup himself.

To get past what Ryan had done to him.

If only.

_Don't fool yourself Hutchinson._

He climbed the narrow external staircase to his friend's apartment and even before he reached the landing he heard the voices and the sounds. More to the point he heard the cries and the soft muted suppressed groans of fear and anguish that were so strikingly feminine, so strikingly terrified, that the blood in Hutch's veins felt thick and pulsing.

He took the last few steps at a rush and lunged at the door.

The strangled female cries were frantic and pleading and so….helpless.

Hutch's worst case scenarios for his beleaguered friend just got worse.

It was bad enough to be concerned for his partner's mental and physical welfare.

It was even worse to be concerned for his legal and judicious welfare.

He smashed his fist on the door, yelling his partner's name.

"Starsky! Starsky! Open this fucking door now! Open it you hear me!"

The female cries stopped momentarily, sensing possible assistance from outside.

"Fuck!" It was obvious that his partner was out of control and was not going to invite him in.

Pulling his keyring out of his pocket he fumbled in the semi dark for the familiar key.

How often in the last days had been smashing open Starsky's door in a stressed and anxious state? This time he dreaded what he was going to find but he knew already what would be waiting for him.

_Oh partner, what are you doing to us?_


	6. Chapter 6

**Then Neither Can He**

**Chapter 6**

"Go! For God's Sake, just get out of here Starsky and let me handle this will you? Get in the damn shower or whatever you need to do to cool off but just get out. NOW!"

Hutch was still shaking partly from fury at Starsky and fear at how bad the situation was going to be when he got through the door a few moments ago. Fear that his partner had well and truly crossed the line from which he wouldn't be able to pull him back or help him. The worst of it was he realized, that had he been a few minutes later, the scenario in this room could be a whole lot different.

Right about now Hutch thought, he could be arranging to escort his partner down to the station while some female rape officer was handling the young woman who was still cringing in the corner of Starsky's couch. He had turned his attention away from her briefly while addressing his surly partner but he was very aware of her curled up there looking at him, her make-up smeared and her clothes pulled askew.

He had unlocked the door and kicked it open with his leg, keeping both hands free and prepared for whatever action he might be confronted with upon entry. Sensing that he was going to have to intervene physically, he was poised for action.

The scene that greeted him inside his partner's apartment fairly much summed up what he had expected. It looked like it was going to be the second time in a short period of time that he was going to need to extricate an inebriated Starsky from a body. There was no burly bar thug to contend with this time but a flailing willowy female.

Starsky was on top of a young woman and heavily involved in an act of unbridled sexual frenzy. It was immediately obvious that she was not, or at least was no longer, a willing participant in the union.

The scene before him was harsh and crude, and it didn't take long to work out that the female half of the action had long since lost any exuberance she may have had for the feverish advances of her male counterpart. Furthermore it didn't appear as though Starsky was in the mood to curb his own enthusiasm. He was on a mission that was one-sided and bordering on out of control.

His buddy's erection was prominent and threateningly close to achieving its target as Hutch's took in the woman's state of clothing. Her skirt was ruched up about her hips, her panties precariously close to being down and her blouse pushed off her upper body. Starsky had his hands on her breasts and was breathing heavily as he pushed and grunted his fully erect cock against her pelvis.

The air in the living room held the cloying smell of stale smoke, liquor and perfume. Smells brought back on bodies from some crowded bar.

Upon hearing the door slam to open, Starsky's head went up and he snarled roughly at his blond partner. He seemed surprised despite the loud intrusive knocking that had preceded Hutch's entry.

"What the hell? Get the fuck outta here will ya' Hutch!"

In one swift move Hutch reached down and hoisted the lust filled Starsky off the woman and shoved him aside, holding him firmly away with his left arm. With his right arm he pulled the woman up from her lying position and tried to move further away from his partner, into the far corner of the couch. There was little resistance from her and she quickly scurried up and back away from the man who had been pressing himself onto her.

"Stay there! Don't move! Are you ok?"

A small sob was his only answer and a baleful look at Starsky. The look confused Hutch as it was almost a combination of disappointment, resentment and fear. Almost as though she was not all that sure she had wanted to be separated from the man who had been on top of her.

He demanded again, a little more roughly than he intended it to sound.

"Are you alright? Are you hurt? Tell me."

"No – no. I'm ok – but who the hell are you?"

Hutch shook his head dismissing her question.

"It's ok. Don't worry. I'm not going to hurt you. I'm Starsky's partner."

He saw her instant confusion and then saw her eyes flicker over to a very agitated Starsky who was still pushing against Hutch's firm hold. Given his level of intoxication however he was doing more slumping than pushing.

"Oh – you mean Dave? You're Dave's partner? So you're a cop too?"

Her alert response and quickly escalating interest dispelled any major fears he had for her mental and emotional state. She was at least not too traumatized from the event – at least not on the surface she wasn't.

"Yeah….I am…..Starsky …..Starsk….come on. Will you stop fighting me for Christ's sake? It's over. Quit it will you. The lady is not interested can't you see. Settle down will you? "

The two of them wrestled weakly for a moment and the girl watched them intently from the safe corner of her couch. She could see that the tall blond was easily overpowering her mysterious man who was still sullen but was also fading fast. He gave a few half-hearted shoves back at the blond and threw out a few colorful crude words, but then gradually quieted and slumped against the other end of the couch.

"Ok – are we done now? Are you going to stay still? Just leave me check this young lady out please. Get yourself sorted out – ahhhh – here let me – Jesus Starsk – just do up your jeans will you? "

He half held his friend while helping him adjust his immodest appearance though Starsky seemed to worry little about his assets still being on display.

"Go into the bedroom – go shower or whatever. I need to take care of this."

Starsky swayed unsteadily and pulled clumsily as his shirt and jeans, managing only barely to cover himself up.

"We were havin' fun. Just havin' fun. Why'd ya' have to come bustin' in here 'Utch? Jeez?"

Hutch took a deep impatient breath and bent down to the woman on the couch quickly.

"Let me get my partner sorted out here for a minute – ah – sorry what is your name?"

Her response was a reflex. "Sandy….It's Sandy"

Starsky stopped swaying for a second and fixed her with a narrow glare.

"Huh? What? But ya' told me ya' name was Cindy. She's Cindy 'Utch, not Sandy. Cindy twenty-five."

Hutch caught her embarrassment and started to put some pieces together in his head. He sidestepped what would be a futile road for the conversation to go down now.

It would change little.

"Whatever, Sandy, Cindy, just wait I'll be two minutes."

He bundled Starsky into the bedroom and slammed the door hard behind them.

"Look Starsk I'm in no damn mood for you right now. Just haul your ass into that shower – take care of whatever you need to take care of …."

Hutch waved his hand in the vicinity of his friend's lower regions,

"While I go into damage control out there."

"She freakin' left me with blue balls – God don't ya' hate that? No – wait it was you! You left me with blue balls and a massive hard on with your crashing through my door! Why the fuck can't ya' leave me in peace Hutch? This is my private life here! Shit! Shit! Ow! This boner is gonna' kill me!"

Hutch scowled hard at him, rolled his eyes and stomped into the shower and turned it on full blast.

"I don't think at your age I need to tell you the solution for that particular predicament".

He cast his eyes fleetingly over the hard to ignore source of Starsky's discomfort but spared him little sympathy.

"If I _had_ left you in peace , buddy, you could very well be in prison tonight. You were in the process of virtually raping that girl out there. Now shut up! Get in that shower and do what you need to do to relieve yourself. Don't come out again until I get rid of this girl. As it is she may want to press charges against you. So stay here! Don't interrupt and don't speak to her again. I will be back to talk so stay awake or I'll have to wake you up. We need to talk."

Starsky turned, nearly tripping over his undone jean now making their own journey south on his trim pelvis.

"Fuck you Hutchinson! Cos of you, I've got to whack off in the shower!"

oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOooo

Hutch put the glass of water down on the coffee table and looked again at the girl.

"Are you sure you don't want a coffee – is water enough?"

"No that's ok. But, I think that a drink would have been better."

She smiled appreciatively at the handsome blond and was feeling more confident now that the threat was behind her.

"No – I think that a drink is the very last thing you need. It's probably what got you into this situation in the first place."

"Well I think your partner had way too many drinks – that's for sure – ah Hutch, is that right? I heard Dave call you that. Cute name. Is that your nickname?"

"Ah, yeah you could say that. Detective Hutchinson – Ken. Now do you want to tell me what was going on here with my partner? I'm concerned that you are ok – but I think you seem all right. He didn't – ah – didn't hurt you in any major way did he Sandy? Cindy? Err what is your name?"

"It's Sandy but Cindy sounds, well sexier and older. Gets guys in better. Particularly guys like Dave who is all sort of moody and well …. you know what I mean don't you? You're a man, so you understand what men like in women don't you?"

He was fast getting the picture with this girl and what had transpired here tonight.

"Sandy, how old are you?"

"Twenty-five"

"Ah I see – Cindy twenty-five, right."

He recalled Starsky's term before.

"Care to show me your ID Sandy?"

"Hey what's this?"

"Sandy I'm a cop and I'm more than a little concerned about what has happened here. I've just found you in a very potential dangerous situation with my partner – now your ID? You must have one given that you met Starsky in a bar tonight. That is where you met him isn't it?"

"Sure – nothing to hide."

She snatched her bag and withdrew a photo ID.

He tipped it up under the lamplight and then looked at her more closely.

"Pretty obviously a fake isn't it Sandy….Cindy….Cindy Masters. Age here puts you at twenty-two. Just legal to get into a bar. But that is not your real age either is it Sandy? "

She looked just a little frightened now and he sighed tiredly, running his hands across his forehead as was his customary habit.

"I'm not here to nab you for underage drinking Sandy, just to give you some much needed advice and warning. You are ….."

"Nineteen, I'm nineteen. But I look a lot older don't you think?"

She challenged him with pouty lips that had she realised were now smeared almost comically with lipstick, didn't help her cause of trying to appear as a femme fatale. Actually Hutch couldn't decide if she looked comical or tragic. He would have offered her a handkerchief but realised it would probably insult her.

"Sure if that is what you want to do – look older. Act older, do older activities like drinking in bars that are not meant for your age group. But then look what happens when you do all of this? You want to act older? Play with the big boys – meet real men, then you have to take the risks that go along with it too. You are playing a dangerous game here Sandy. Very dangerous. "

"Hey – all I did was admire your friend in there and give him some compliments about his cute ass. But really I just wanted to get to know an older guy. My friends and I only ever meet immature college geeks. Dave is well – well he's a sexy cop and he looked sort of sad. I was hoping to help him."

"Help him how Sandy?"

"Well all I really wanted to do was to sort of kiss and touch him and talk to him. Thought he might find me cute and interesting enough to ask me out again."

_Oh God…Please….What a mess. Is it any wonder these things happen. This could have been a disaster._

"Sandy. You don't know anything about my partner – about that man in there that you met for the first time tonight. Not the first thing about him. You met him in a bar – approached him openly and then agreed, I presume, to come back here to his place with him when he was obviously drunk and, yes, not very happy – sort of sad as you say."

"But he was a cop. The barman knew that. I wanted to get to know a cop, and to get to smooch up to him a bit. Didn't think he would be a problem. Didn't want him to go all the way with me."

"No, I suppose you didn't – but then unfortunately for you Sandy, that is not how real life works. You have put yourself into a situation of high risk and have been irresponsible to yourself and dishonest to him in there. You lied about your age, and perhaps, I can't be sure, let him think that you were interested in him on an intimate level. You are just damn lucky he wasn't someone else or you might not be sitting here in one piece right now."

Her fingernails were getting a lot of attention and she was looking a little bored with his words. It angered him on several levels. But he chose now to try to drive home some points from the level of a police officer and a concerned citizen.

"Take my advice Sandy. I'm a cop – your "interesting man" in there is too. But just because we're cops, or just because you might meet other men who you think are safe bets for your social games, don't ever ever presume anything about them. Don't presume that you are safe to go home with an older man who has been drinking, or is moody, or in fact is happy and sober. Period! And never think that you are going to be able to stop a man you have just met from going further than a harmless kiss or flirtatious smooch as you call it. As street cops Sandy, we see the results of girls like you everyday. Some of those results are not pretty, believe me not pretty at all. Some of those girls never go home to tell their friends about their experiences Sandy."

"Yeah – I guess. I know….but I really don't think your partner would have hurt me. He had already told me to go and even not to come with him. I should have listened huh? I was a bit scared cos he wouldn't stop. But I truly don't think he would have ever you know – hurt me."

She thought that the beautiful faced man now looked sad.

"There's all levels of hurt aren't there? If I didn't come in when I did – well – you would've had to deal with a situation that I'm afraid you openly put yourself into. It would've been too late to stop it if you'd changed your mind and that may have left you feeling hurt – if it wasn't what you wanted. I just want you to realize that next time you feel like doing something potentially stupid like this again. Stick with your friends, don't go out alone, and don't go to places where you shouldn't be.

What my partner did was wrong. But then – I think you know what you did tonight, by deceiving him and yourself, was wrong too. Have I gotten through to you at all?"

_Have I? Has she heard anything I have said? Or will she be right out there again tomorrow night with the make-up and the high heels trying to score some trophy to hold up among her friends?_

"Yeah. You have. I'm sorry I – well I'm not sorry I met Dave. But I'm sorry I left him feeling like I wanted more than I really wanted if you know what I mean. I just wanted him to think I was womanly and then he might want to see me again."

"Ok Sandy. I'm calling a cab to come and pick you up. I'm putting you in it and sending you home. I'll pay the driver so that I make sure you get home ok? Do you live with your folks?"

"No a few of us college friends share a small place."

He nodded as he walked over to locate Starsky's phone. As he bent down to retrieve it from the lower shelf of the bookcase he erupted.

"Of course! Good one Starsk! Off the hook. No wonder I couldn't get hold of you!"

Once he had put the call through he made a point more for himself than anything else of slamming the receiver back into place on its cradle.

"Should damn well tape it in place so he learns where it should be! Not off the hook for pity's sake."

Replacing the phone he could see that the girl's face was crinkling with another question.

"Do you think he would want to see me again? Dave I mean? Could you ask him? He might listen to you? It's just well – it's not that bigger age difference really, and maybe when he's not drunk we can have a cool time together. He might like to meet my friends – and he's so – well cute."

_God help me here! This cab better not take long…._

"Sandy – I think it's best that you just put Starsk - ah Dave out of your mind and notch this experience up as one of life's lessons. I'm sure there are plenty of nice guys at college that you can get to know."

He was picking up her handbag now, taking her arm and trying to guide her to the door.

"Yeah but that is the whole point. They are college guys. Not like Dave – not real men. I was thinking that I could perhaps drop around and see Dave again – try again with us. Do you think he will be around tomorrow?"

_What is it with girl? Is she even aware of what she is doing?_

"Sandy, I thought we'd just been discussing that "real men" , older men like Dave, might not be what you're quite ready for in life. Trust me – just find yourself a nice guy your own age. Now – I think that cab will be here anytime. Let's get you downstairs and soon you'll be home. Ok?"

He was now pulling her to toward the door.

"Well can you let Dave know I'll probably drop by sometime in the afternoon tomorrow. Unless you think it would be better to leave a message for him at the station. Hey what station do you work at?"

_That's it – I've had it with this stupid girl. This is ridiculous – she is not getting any of this through her dumb, young head._

"Sandy. Listen. Stop and listen to yourself. Tonight was one big mistake. You took a big risk. You're lucky you met Starsky and not someone else who may not have handled you or the situation you put yourself in quite the same way. Trust me when I tell you – my partner does not have any real interest in you. That may seem hurtful, but it is the truth. Go home and forget about this – about whomever you might like to fantasize that the man you met tonight could be. "

He could hear the cab beeping its horn and saw the lights reflecting through the window. But the girl's eyes were flashing now and her face took on a stubborn edge. She snatched her arm away and all but glared at him.

"Hey! You can't tell me who I can and can't see Mr. Cop. And you can't tell Dave who he might want to be with either."

Hutch's fatigue and agitation were all but pushing him to say something that he probably would be best not to but – he needed this girl gone.

"Sandy – you have lied about your age. When I go in there and tell my partner that he has been entertaining a nineteen year old college girl, he will not be any more interested than he is already. In fact he will be damn angry with you and himself. Don't try to contact him again. Ever. Ok? Now there's the cab. I'm putting you in it, paying the driver and you are going home. For your own good – I don't want you to come near Starsky again."

A few minutes later he walked back into the apartment and closed the door with a heavy sigh. Weary with what seemed the weight of the world on his shoulders he leaned back against the door. He took a moment to breathe in and out before facing the focal point of all of his worry. He stared fixedly at the bedroom door ahead of him.

_It's official buddy. This is all going to end here. We are both at the end of this . No more. Ryan will take no more from us._

A few seconds later, he took another deep frustrated breath when he pushed open the door to Starsky's bedroom – more loudly than was necessary.

And was not at all surprised to see him far from awake.

He wanted to be angry. He wanted to rain down on Starsky for putting himself in such a compromising situation with the girl he had finally sent on her way. He wanted to yell and curse and cut through all the stubborn barriers that his friend had erected since he had first gone undercover with the Ryan. He wanted to say clearly – to put it out there for both of them to realise, that - the time had come.

_This is ending now. You're actions have pushed me into a corner and now I need to do what I should have done weeks ago._

But he said none of this.

The object of his all of his concern was asleep.

Unconscious. Face down and buck-naked on the bed. The prized "sexy butt" that Sandy had been admiring now on clear display as his friend's body lay where he had either carelessly fallen or flung himself. It looked like he had barely made it to the bed after the shower before he had crashed down face first, arms flung above his head, legs askew in the tangled bedclothes. The curly dark hair was still wet and glistening in the semi dark and one arm hugged a pillow with an almost ferocious tenacity. The strong olive-skinned arm that had only such a short time ago had grappled with yielding young female flesh, now held tight to the soft mass of a yielding pillow.

Hutch walked back into the bathroom, turned off the still dripping shower taps and snagged a dry towel. He killed the bright lights behind him as he walked back into the bedroom and flipped on the softer bedside lamp. With the towel he gently blotted at the wet curls and wet back but realizing there was no way in eternity this alcohol infused partner of his was going to wake, he rubbed more vigorously at the hair and then threw the damp towel over the chair.

He pulled the bed covers up over Starsky's naked body, switched the lamp off and left the room.

"I'll be back in a few hours buddy and then, no more stalling, we're going to talk. Time is up on this one.''

It was well after midnight. He would put in another six hours with Riley and aim to be back here before his partner – no doubt soon to be hung over partner – was awake.

oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOooo

The apartment was as totally silent as when he had left it some hours before but now it was bathed in bright early morning light.

True to his own word Hutch dropped into the chair beside the bed with his own steaming cup of coffee in hand. He had placed another on the bedside table. He'd also brought in a large glass of water and a bottle of aspirin. Pale early light was filtering into the bedroom where he had pushed the curtains aside and opened the window to let out the stale smell of alcohol.

The scalding coffee was doubly strong. He needed it to push through his layered fatigue, and it was better than the bitter departmental brew he had sipped on all through the long night.

Starsky was still in the same position he had him left hours – normal for his sleep-loving friend. When he slept, he really slept. Like the dead.

It didn't seem fair to wake him but Hutch was beyond tired himself having just come off the night shift and he wanted to keep his mental momentum going before he weakened and took the easier option.

Doing nothing and saying nothing.

The easier option was no longer a viable option. He had seen the damage that Starsky was doing to himself with easy passing day and as he had alluded to with Ryan – he was about to take matters into his own hands.

But first he owed it to his partner to tell him what he was planning to do in the next hour or so. The deeply asleep Starsky needed to be roused.

Once he woke him all would change.

Things might have been rocky and unsettled for weeks and weeks now but once he woke him and said what he had to say, they were going to get a whole let more unsettled.

A friendship would be put to the test and both of their lives would alter course to some extent.

Nonetheless he was not going to change his mind.

All through the long night he had weighed it up – and his conviction was firm.

For the hundredth time in the past month, Hutch wished that Dobey never let Dobson set up the undercover assignment with Ryan and Starsky. Or at least, that he had pulled them both off the bust when the surveillance team had seen them leave with Nick, and Starsky under the gun.

The resulting spiral had spun down out of control and now Starsky was spiraling down all by himself. He was on a trajectory to self-defeat, total self-destruction.

Last night had just proved that he was unhinging at a rapid rate.

It was time for him to wake up in more ways than one and it fell to him as his partner and best friend to make him do that.

Before he let himself second guess his own decision he leaned over and tapped firmly at the tousled head.

"Time to wake up Starsky."

With no response he doubled his efforts and shook the shoulder for good measure.

"Hey wake up. Starsky! We need to talk."

The body rolled, groaned, coughed and groaned again.

An unsteady hand came up and covered his eyes and pushed through his messed up curly hair.

"Oh My God! Wh…..what? What the hell? What time is it and what are you doin' here? So ….damn…early. Shit….feel like shit…."

Hutch handed him the coffee.

"Here have a swig of this, it's not too hot now. Then have the water and these."

He shook out three aspirin while Starsky greedily gulped down the warm sweet coffee, obviously parched.

He didn't argue with following it up with the water and pills and then handing the glass back unsteadily to Hutch, groaned loudly and sank back onto the pillows.

Warily he rolled onto his side and peered with heavy lidded eyes at his partner who was now sitting back in the chair and watching him – waiting.

"Hey buddy, I might feel terrible but you _look_ terrible. How long since you've had a decent sleep? Why are you here and not at home in bed after your shift? It can't be more than dawn for Christ's Sake."

"It's after six and yeah nights are killing me. But I wanted to come here before I go back into the station."

Starsky pulled himself up the bed a little now and grabbed for his coffee again.

"Why would you need to go back to Metro? Go home for God's Sake. I don't need you checkin' on me – hold on – last night? Oh yeah...last night. Oh God...the girl and, and you. The bar before - no wonder my head feels like this. "

He rubbed at his gritty eyes and winced at the pain that was no doubt filling his rattling head.

Hutch was relieved to hear more of the "normal" Starsky than he had seen or heard in quite a while. At least he was talking with more of his usual Starsky style and was not so aloof.

Hutch pushed the large glass of water toward him.

"Drink the water and the coffee Starsk, you're dehydrated ."

"Thanks for lettin' me know - as if I didn't figure that one out. Head feels like its gonna explode. I think I can hear it actually rattlin' . "

"That's usually what happens the morning after you consume shitloads of strong liquor. The few neurones you do have are banging around together in that thick skull of yours. Do you remember much of last night?"

Starsky eyed him narrowly now and more than a little angrily, but Hutch caught the repentance behind the anger too.

"Well if you mean do I remember you breaking up my attempts to get laid then sure I do. Good timing Partner. Why did ya' see fit to interrupt me? And yeah – and then leave me with a God Almighty boner as well. Took me ages to deal with that problem, so thanks a lot."

"It's a wonder you could even manage a boner you were so tanked. When I left here you were unconscious. Lucky you didn't puke in your bed and suffocate, except I know that is not your style."

"No – that is definitely more your style. You're the hurler. Me - I suffer with a little more dignity. "

It'd be so easy to let them both slide into their comforting style of banter – God knows he's missed it so much in the last weeks but diverting themselves with the patter of familiar cut and thrust dialogue wouldn't get them where they needed to go with this opportunity to talk.

He brought a serious edge to his voice and looked at Starsky with grim eyes.

"I need more coffee. You? "

"I need the john – but yeah more coffee. Then you're gonna tell me why you busted in like that last night, then you're goin' home for shut eye."

Hutch stood.

"I'll fix the coffee and then yeah, we'll talk."

Ten minutes later Starsky walked out to find Hutch sitting waiting for him at the kitchen table.

He was dressed in fresh jeans and a t-shirt and had obviously showered again.

"Well I'm feeling a little less like the walking dead now and this next coffee might just pull me up enough to ask you why ya' re here at this time of the morning with that look on ya' face ?"

"You really have to ask?"

"Yeah I do. I do have to ask Hutch. Cos it seems lately that you are treading all over my private life and pushing ya' face in to my private activities."

"Two things there Starsk. Firstly, since when have we ever not been involved with each other's private lives? Recently for you it seems you have made it your habit to exclude me from yours. Secondly, do you call nearly raping a girl a "private activity"?

"What the fuck? Raping? When was I raping her?"

"I said _nearly_ raping, and if you had of not been so drunk you might have appreciated that she was not exactly participating in whatever you thought you were sharing with her.''

His face now dark Starsky lashed back crudely.

"I was as you saw sharing my dick with her and we were havin' a very nice time till you showed up and stuck ya' face in between us."

"Not how it was going down partner. But you must have missed that. You were out of control with what you were doing. She was trying to fight you off, push you away and you were not getting the message. It could have ended very badly – for her and for you."

"Oh come on Hutch. She was all over it. She pushed for it when I met her at the bar. I gave her lots of outs and even tried to discourage her. But she was keen for it – more than I was even. But when we got back here ….."

"When you got back here, she cooled down fast didn't she? That's because she was all talk Starsky. She was not really intending to have sex with you."

"Well she damn well fooled me!"

"She did. Do you know how old she is and what her name is?"

"Well she was ah – Cindy – yeah that's it, that's her name. Though she told you somethin' else…" He seemed to be trying to recall last night's events.

"And she was twenty five and she damn well came on to me. I was just sittin' there mindin' my own business. In fact, I was just about to come home. I'd had enough."

_Had enough of everything. So sick of feeling like this. And now what? Why is Hutch sitting there looking at me like that? It's not as if neither of us have never had gratuitous sex before. Hell I'm sure he knows that I badly needed it last night._

"I know she came on to you – she even wanted to see you again today. Thinks you may be interested in her for a relationship."

Starsky groaned and flung himself back in the kitchen chair.

"Oh Christ no….she wasn't really my type and anyway, I just wanted….. Ah hell, how am I gonna get out of that one. She knows where I live now. And there – why would she want to see me again if she had thought I had hurt her or was forcing her? "

"Simply because she is very immature and stupid and takes huge risks that she doesn't understand could get her in big trouble."

"I wasn't gonna hurt her Hutch. You know me better than that."

He looked a little shocked and dismayed.

"I agree, I know you better than that. Trouble is buddy, the way you have been lately, I don't think you know yourself anymore. And for the record – Sandy, not Cindy, is nineteen years old, not twenty-five. She had a fake ID to get her into the bar and calls herself that to sound more interesting, sexier to men your age. Don't worry she won't be bothering you again. I let her know that you wouldn't be interested in someone of that age."

Starsky paled and looked even more shocked.

"Ah Shit! No? You're not serious. Wow! Nineteen."

"Perhaps if you had been more on the ball you would have noticed that partner, but I'd say your detective skills have been a little rusty of late."

Bitterness took the place of shock now.

"Yeah well and what use would I have anyway for Detective skills when I'm sittin' at home on my ass suspended? And you Hutch – you're trying too hard to cover every base with yours. You don't need to work a double shift – leave the precinct and then come here and try to sort out my shit. No one asked ya to."

"That's the problem. You have not been asking me too – in fact you have been blocking me out for weeks now. I can't even get you on the damn phone anymore. It was off the fucking hook last night! No wonder I have to keep running over here to see you."

"You know why the phone has been off the hook Hutch…"

"Yeah I do! And what have you been doing about that? Nothing! In fact if I hadn't seen the fucking asshole myself yesterday on a call out I may not have even known you were about to walk yourself right into a near disaster again last night."

"You've seen Ryan? You've talked to him?"

"On the job only. Not like you isn't that right? He's been making sure he runs into you in the middle of nowhere doesn't he Starsky? He's still tailing you and you don't bother to let me know. Not one word from you – not one freakin' word – and again I have to end up finding you like I did last night. Wrecked! Totaled! Just like you were in that bar brawl last week."

Hutch drew in a ragged breath and smashed down his coffee cup.

"Told you before Hutch – just leave me sort out my life. Leave me sort out this stuff with Ryan. I don't want you talkin' to him or threatin' him. You know what he'll do to you and to me if you keep pushing him."

Hutch looked up at the wall clock.

"You want to know why I really came here for - so early this morning? I wanted to tell you what I've decided to do and to ask you to be a part of it."

"What are you sayin' here Hutch?"

"I'm saying that I'm driving back to the station and I'm going to be sitting waiting for Dobey to arrive at work so that I can catch him early. I've got a lot to tell him and there is a hell of a lot he needs to know. Come in with me Starsk. Let's do this together. I want Ryan gone out of your life - our lives. There's a simple way to take care of that."

"Simple? Simple? Ya' call it fuckin' simple to screw up your career and to drag me through the mud with allegations of what he has done to me. That ain't simple Hutch, that's just fuckin' insane. I won't let ya do it. Told ya' already. So go home and go to bed and then get up for ya' next shift and let me stay here and live my own life."

"No. Not happening Starsky. I've watched you go from bad to worse in the past weeks. You're probably in a worse state that when I brought you home from the hospital. You're not looking after yourself, not eating properly, drinking way too much, putting yourself in danger, losing control of your emotions. What next? What will I find next with you? I'm not watching you try to kill yourself bit by bit here when all I have to do, should have done ages ago, is take Ryan out of the equation.

You can get back into your life then Starsk. He's the reason you are self-destructing. I want him gone. I knew you wouldn't like it. But that's too bad. My decision is made."

"He'll have it put out for the whole Force to know - about the heroin Hutch. He'll twist and fuck it all up – the whole story. He'll use it against you so badly and all that trouble, all that pain you went through to get off it, to get better to put it behind you – it'll all be for nothing. It'll take your badge. He'll take your badge."

"Starsky – stop it! I won't let this go on any longer even if it means he'll drag up the sordid Forrest experience. He can take my badge. He's already taken yours hasn't he? I just don't want him taking anything else from you – like he's been doing since this all began. "

"That's different – this is to do with him and me. You shouldn't be gettin' dragged through all of this shit. You even tried to stop me from goin' under with him. I shoulda listened to ya' then – but ya' never had a reason why I shoulda'. Ya just hated him. "

Hutch hadn't intended to say it now. Not intended to drag it up now but then with Starsky's words and his revelation that Hutch was an innocent bystander in this whole shit mess – the guilt rose up and overtook him.

"You're wrong. I'm as much a part of this mess as you are Starsky. I could've done a lot more to stop this from ever starting. To have stopped Ryan from ever fucking up your life. But I didn't tell you, never did. I just didn't see the point at the time, and then….I don't know….it would have made you feel….violated I guess and maybe I didn't really know for sure at the time."

"What the hell are you talking about Hutch?"

"The Academy – what happened years ago at the academy. Ryan – you."

And then it came back to Starsky in a rush of memory. Ryan had said similar words too – about Hutch never having told him what he knew about the academy.

"So tell me now Hutch. I want to know."

"I never wanted you to go on that assignment Starsky because I have always hated Ryan. Never trusted him and never knew for sure what he was about. All I knew is that he made my skin crawl and I didn't want him around you.

Years ago – way back when we all at the academy together I caught him. You may not recall the night – so many nights just like it. I'd left the shower block before you and gone up to get ready – we were looking good for some hot dates later in the evening. You were late as usual as you never pushed in for the showers remember? But I came back – to the shower block because I'd left my watch there - well you know how I feel about that watch?

When I got back you were getting out of the shower – no one else was around and you were singing or humming to yourself as you do and drying yourself off. Ryan – "

"Ryan what? What about him Hutch? "

"Ryan was out of view behind the bank of lockers but he could see you through the gap. He was jerking off while he was leering at you naked. It made me – sick. I was so damn shocked and so yeah – sick to the stomach I guess. He saw me watching him. He was so fucking arrogant about it and just brushed it all off. Later – days later I confronted him about it. Again he just laughed it off, but I got the feeling he was - well – attracted to you. He said stuff to me about not going anywhere with what I'd seen. That it would be bad for both of your careers and that I had no real proof that he wasn't just masturbating by himself anyway. But I knew – I knew that he was using you and I was freakin angry with the perverted bastard."

Aren't you going to say something? How does this make you feel Starsk?"

Starsky just shook his head and scrubbed hard at his face. He looked at a point on the far wall.

"Don't. Don't do that. Don't ask me how this makes me feel. I'm sick of being asked how all this makes me feel? Why didn't you tell me?"

"I told you….I was younger then. Not sure. He made it sound so trivial and maybe it was I don't know. After all as he pointed out, I was a naïve ,shy country hick. I didn't want to do anything that might jeopardize your training or qualification. So nothing happened. Just let it all slide away. None of it would have mattered either except he showed up that day at Metro and it all seemed so convenient that it fell into place that you were able to go in under with him while I was – well unable to.

I sensed it then too. Straight away that he was bad – even – evil. Just knew it wasn't go down well for you in there. I tried to tell you, tried to convince you not to go in Starsky. You were damn angry with me.

If only I'd have told you then. Warned you about how he felt about you. Shit! Don't you see? All of this could have been prevented. Maybe, but you would have been on your guard with him. You would have known if he was setting you up in some way because you had rejected him.

So there. You see. I'm as involved as you are in this. Probably more so. All because I kept my fucking mouth closed. Well I'm not keeping it closed any longer. "

"Well you've had your say. You've made your mind up. You've had the inside information and the inside running on Ryan and seen if fit to keep it all from me. …."

Hutch interrupted him now aghast.

"I tried my utmost to stop this in the best way I could Starsky. The best way without hurting you or making you feel….."

"Dirty? Is that the word you're looking for. There it is Hutch. You and everyone else seems to wanna know about my fuckin' feelings - how do you feel about this Starsky? How do you feel? Well there it is. One simple word. I feel dirty. Dirty, stupid, used, fucked over, discarded and worthless. But dirty is still the best word so I'm sticking with that one.

I've been suspended through no fault of my own and made to feel even dirtier every day because of how that motherfucker has treated me. Now you stand here, my only true friend, and tell me that you are going to let the whole department know how and why I feel "dirty" and you expect me to be ok with that?

You truly think that running to the Department with all of this is gonna cure me of these bad feelings Hutch? Fucking no it won't. Might make you feel better. Might take away your guilt for holding back on me but it won't make me anything but just dirtier."

Now it's my turn to ask you Hutch. How does that make you feel? How do you feel when I say all of this to you? You're not even looking at me!"

And Hutch knew he wasn't. He couldn't. He kept his eyes fixed on the door he was about to leave through. The words were bad enough to hear without seeing his partner's pained face. So well did he know Starsky that he could see in his own mind exactly how his face would be looking as he spoke those words that gutted him to the soul. To lock eyes with him would be his undoing and so he walked purposefully to the door without wavering his gaze.

"Hutch! Wait."

But Hutch didn't turn around, just stood with his hand on the door handle.

"It's your decision in what you do next, what you think you have to do. Fair enough. You say I can't stop you or change your mind. Maybe. But remember, it's my damn decision how I choose to act about what you do... Well hear this - Partner, friend - you walk out that door, you go to Dobey with this ….then…...don't come back. "


	7. Chapter 7

**Then Neither Can He**

**Chapter 7**

She waited and watched for a little longer before putting the call through.

It took two internal transfers before she heard him pick up. His voice was deep and as sexy as she had remembered and in her mind she was seeing his tall well built form.

It was worth a try to pitch some information his way and tug on the line a little to see if he was interested in pursuing something with her. The fact that he had failed to contact her even once since she last gave him information soured her but she was willing to try again.

He was after all, worth it.

"Detective Lancaster."

"Hey there. It's me."

If she thought she noticed a blank pause coming down through the line she pushed it away quickly and hurried on.

It's been a while….haven't heard from you. Anyway, I thought you might want to know about some developments down here at The Parker Centre. I know you are - umm – that you're interested in Detective Hutchinson and his partner. …"

It turned out that the man of her own interests was very attentive to the news that she had for him.

From her post at the front desk she had watched Hutchinson arrive at the precinct very early looking worn and tired. His clothes were rumpled and it was apparent he had not slept. The duty roster that she cast her eyes over showed that he was on nights and so his appearance back at the station at this time of day meant he was following something up.

Captain Dobey arrived shortly afterwards and when she sauntered by the squad room doors she watched as he closed the office door on him and Hutchinson. That in itself was nothing to note but when short time later one of the admin girls came out and let her know that Hutchinson and Dobey were going at each other in the office, she wondered whether the piece of news was useful for her own needs.

Later on when the Captain from the Nineteenth Precinct arrived – Dobson – she remembered his name now – she knew for sure she had something noteworthy for Ryan Lancaster. Enough to give her a reason to make touch base with him again.

Deciding to put the call through to him, she hoped her efforts rewarded her with at least a drink with the hunky detective from the nineteenth.

oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOooo

Hutch was standing at the window in Dobey's office leaning into heavily. With his forehead pressed heavily into the cool glass he was trying his best to push away the last words he had heard Starsky hurl at him as he walked out of the apartment only a little while ago. Funny, but this morning they had momentarily seemed to be back in the groove with each other - bantering and caring and glimpses of their old humour. But that had all changed dramatically, irrevocably when Hutch made it clear what his intentions were - where he was heading to as soon as he left Starsky. It was obvious that Starsky was not going to change his stance. He was stuck. Psychologically stuck in a dark, deep place where Ryan had pushed him. He wasn't even trying to climb out anymore and the hand that Hutch offered him was being slapped away repeatedly.

_All this. All of fucking this. Just because I didn't tell Starsk about that pervert watching him all those years ago in the shower. Well at least I can do something now. Starsk will hate me for it, but otherwise he'll stay stuck in that deep hole for a lot longer - maybe never climb out._

He was so damn tired – more emotionally than physically. Tired of the past weeks and where the events had brought him. Where the events that Ryan had instigated had brought them all – Starsky, Ryan and himself.

Ryan had brought him to this point.

Brought him to the moment he was about to betray his best friend's confidence and with all likelihood jeopardize the very basis of their friendship.

Their trust for and in each other.

But he was prepared for the cost of what he was about to do.

If it meant ending the hold that Ryan Lancaster had on Starsky it was worth it.

If it meant the end of Starsky's descent into self loathing and acting out against his own self-disgust, then it was worth it.

The price for doing what Starsky didn't want him to do, could mean their friendship would be ripped apart. But, the price for not doing what he was about to do, could ultimately lead to no Starsky.

Hutch knew which one he was prepared to risk.

Dobey's gruff voice suddenly filled the room as he spoke to his detective with surprise.

Hutch had not even been aware he had entered the room.

"Hutchinson. Why are you standing in my office looking like hell when you should be home off duty? You've just pulled a night and in case you haven't noticed its daylight out there now."

When his blond Detective moved closer and he got an even better view of his face, the big Captain knew that he was in for a heavy session.

"Cap'n. We really need to talk."

The captain had no doubt that what this need to talk was about. It certainly wasn't a case that had one of his two best detectives looking like he was looking now. Like he was going to be ill. Like he was ill.

Dobey sighed. Whenever he had just one half of the dream team that was Starsky and Hutch on duty, there was always a sense that everything was out of kilter. Hutchinson had been looking out of kilter for weeks now and Starsky, from all accounts from the departmental shrink was doing even less well. Even Dobey himself felt out of kilter when the two men were divided. It pained him more than he was ever prepared to show when the two highly unconventional and "law unto themselves" detectives were suffering in any way. They might both be pain in the asses at times but he preferred to have them both giving him grief than having to deal with one without the other.

The wretchedness on the man's face in front of him had him pulling out one of the chairs and picking up his phone.

He barked down the line to the front desk.

"Hold my calls till I get back to you."

"Take a seat son, looks like you have something you need to get off your chest."

It was the caring behind the gruff tone, the raised eyebrow and the hand on his shoulder that had Hutch dropping down into the chair with a sense that he was finally going to unload a burden. Dobey could be a tough leader but he was always there for his men.

With one last thought to the anger that Starsky would hold for revealing what he was about to, Hutch looked at Dobey gratefully.

"I want you to call Dobson – get him over here – now."

The intensity of Hutch's tone had Dobey instantly on guard.

"And why do we need Dobson here now?"

"Because I want his detective taken down. I want Ryan."

oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOooo

When the door closed on Hutch's back, Starsky stood still in the middle of the room, the anger draining out of him. He couldn't blame Hutch for what he felt compelled to do. They were each being driven into their own dark corners, pushed against walls with their backs firmly blocked against any further retreat.

It was time to meet the reality of the situation face on.

Hutch was meeting it in his own way and Starsky should have known that in the end this would be the path Hutch would take. He would be prepared to risk his own position on the force to remove Ryan from their lives and Starsky knew that if he could help it Hutch would not reveal to the department what Ryan had done to him.

But ultimately he would have to.

Within days, maybe even by the end of this day, the news would start to spread. It would begin as one small trickle. A word or two here. A raised eyebrow there. A smirk, a gasp, a shocked look. And then as with all dissemination of information throughout an organisation, particularly sensitive and personal information that interested almost everybody in the social bureaucracy that was the police department, everyone would know.

Everyone would know two pieces of very tantalizing information about the two of the city's most highly regarded law enforcement officers.

They would know that Detective Ken Hutchinson had been a heroin junkie.

It wouldn't matter that it had not been of his own choice or that he had been imprisoned and forced to become an addict. Would not matter that he had been beaten and tortured. Would not matter that he had stoically fought through the terrible addiction without chemical assistance. His only assistance had been his friends and his own inner strength.

It would only matter that he had been – that he was still battling the inner thirst for the drug that had pulled him into its deadly caress.

They would also know that Detective David Starsky had been the victim of "repeated", yes he was sure the word "repeated" would be highlighted, sexual assault by another "proud" officer of the department, Detective Ryan Lancaster. Of course within days it would be hard to really know whether it was assault or whether it was all consensual fun and that both men were hiding the fact that the undercover operation they had shared was really just one big sexual orgy.

These pieces of news would be prime time billing for a few days and then fade away to be replaced by a newer, fresh piece of tantalizing gossip.

But the damage would have been done.

He and Hutch would both be indelibly labelled and Ryan would be gloating on the sidelines.

He heard his own thoughts escalating and compounding - taking fact and magnifying and distorting it so that his head was filled with dread.

_Get a grip Starsky! Listen to what you're saying to yourself for Christ Sake!_

Starsky knew his mind was doing him in on this.

He knew he was letting the worst of his cynicism for the human race and its judgemental hypocrisy get him all twisted up in the guts. He even knew that he was doing a damn good job of thinking in just that judgemental and hypocritical way.

But right now he didn't really care.

He was fucking angry that Ryan had done all of this to him. He was fucking angry that he had not been able to stop him, that he had dared to use Hutch's welfare against him and he was even more fucking angry that he had been the one placed on suspension!

Most of all - most of all though - he was sad that all of this had brought him and Hutch to the point where Hutch had just walked out of his door and not even been able to look at him.

Hutch might be successful in making sure that Ryan never showed up near him again, but Starsky was just too broken already to weather the storm that lay ahead.

_I wish I could be there with you Hutch. Wish I had your conviction and your personal strength to put Ryan where he needs to be. And I don't blame you for needing to do it. But, I'm just not ready to deal with everything that this will bring. _

The small worn leather bound book that held all of his contact numbers was in his hand and he thumbed through its dog-eared pages till he found the number he as chasing.

As he dialed and waited and heard the slippery, throaty voice on the other end, he thought of Hutch standing in Dobey's office right now. His inherently good, inherently kind and inherently strong partner would be there laying it all out in the quest for helping him.

"Mickey? Listen, its Starsky. I need your help and I need it fast. It will be worth it for you. I need two things that I know you can provide and I want no questions. I need a gun. I'm sure you're familiar with my preferences in that area and I need a place to crash that is out of the city. I'll need the place for a few days only until I can make some plans. I know you can arrange that. "

He let the other man on the end of the line whine on, hedge, stammer and stall for a while. He let him do it, go through the motions that Mickey would go through because in the end he knew he would come through with everything he wanted from him. He always did. Money was a great motivator for Mickey – and the thought that he would be accruing a personal debt from the hard nosed detective. It would always be a handy ace for Mickey to hold up his sleeve - knowing that he could call Starsky on it in the future.

They talked for a few more moments and arranged a meeting place for the pickup of the gun and ammo. Mickey would check out a strong possibility for a beach house a few miles up the coast that he knew was vacant and available. There would be no questions. The amount negotiated for the transaction was healthy and Mickey was almost salivating down the phone. Starsky intimidated him – and to have him depending on him to come up with the goods put Mickey is a rare position of power. Already the street rat was sounding less like his usual blundering slimy self and more assured and cocky.

Starsky didn't give a shit how it made Mickey feel. He just needed what he needed from him as soon as he could get it.

He replaced the phone, giving the snitch a time frame of two hours to acquire the gun and the keys to the property.

In the meantime he would pack a few things and get his Torino fuelled up.

He looked at his watch.

Given the time he figured that right about now the fire that Hutch had lit would be really starting to blaze and no doubt it would be spreading to the nineteenth precinct.

As he rammed clothes into his duffel bag, Starsky couldn't help but think that while Hutch would be right there in the middle of the burning fire, he himself was a coward. A coward who was fully intending to run in the opposite direction. He wanted to put as much distance between him and that fire as he could. The further away he was meant that Hutch wouldn't be able to go into "Save Starsky" mode when the shit really hit the fan. He could almost see Hutch now falling over himself trying to cover every base, secure Ryan, seal up the information leaks in the department and get back to him to try to make amends for what he had done. Hutch was a well oiled one man guilt machine and he would wear himself down as he already had done trying to make everything right for his partner.

This time Starsky would not be here to allow him to do it.

And of course, upon finding his partner gone - even that would make Hutch feel guilty. Starsky knew his plan to take flight was a selfish one, even if he was motivated by the thought of sparing Hutch all the mopping up after the news was released.

It was the only course of action Starsky had left in him. He was empty. Empty and hollow and feeling pretty damn worthless.

The now familiar crawling sensation in his stomach was there again. Self-disgust at his own weakness had just ratcheted up a few more notches.

oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOooo

Ryan wasted no time in following through on the information the dumb little number from the front desk at The Parker Center had fed him.

He was surprised when he got her call. Her usefulness extended beyond what he had originally thought he would get out of her.

_Stupid simpering bitch._

He would have taken her out for a quick drink if he thought that he would've had any further use of her from this point on – but based on what she had told him, he doubted if he would still need her inside connection at The Parker Center.

Dobson's secretary had also confirmed that he had been called away for an urgent meeting with Captain Dobey at Parker. That together with the fact that Hutchinson was deeply ensconced in a meeting with his own captain before summoning Dobson all boded badly for him.

Had Hutchinson done it? Gone to the brass with the dirt on him? The glacial blue eyes burning into his own came to him. Hutchinson hated him so much and he knew that he had pushed him to the extreme with what he had done with his beloved partner.

Still he couldn't be sure that Hutchinson was pulling the rug out from him just yet.

Either way he needed to see what Hutchinson's other half was up to. Was he on it too? Did Starsky know what his partner was doing down at headquarters?

Ryan took no time in making the decision to check it out. If the traffic was not too thick he could make Starsky's apartment in less than fifteen minutes.

oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooO OOooo

Dobson had stormed into the Parker Centre, none too happy that his morning schedule had been turned upside down by Dobey's insistent call urging his immediate attendance for a meeting with himself and Detective Sergeant Kenneth Hutchinson.

He wasn't overly impressed with Hutchinson. He found him just a little too pushy, a little too doubting of his decision-making skills and more than a little overly cohesive with his partner who had fared badly in the recent undercover operation with his own Detective Lancaster.

Dobey had been reticent about the nature of the urgent meeting but with Hutchinson in attendance Dobson knew it would most certainly entail some further grievance that Hutchinson held regarding the handling of the operation. He had made it perfectly clear that he had found his and Dobey's handling of the operation far from satisfactory and he knew that there would be even more bad blood in the wake of his partner's recent suspension. He felt bad about David Starsky – no one wanted to see a good cop go down in an emotional heap when cases just cut too close to the bone. Starsky's demise had been brought about by a very unfortunate turn of events that had led to his own man Lancaster having to act out aggressively toward him in order to preserve the integrity of the case. It had obviously been too much for Starsky to take – the physical injuries and the psychological ones. But good cop or not, strong or not, he had succumbed to what the case had done to his head.

It happened all the time. Hutchinson better pull his head in and stop pointing his finger at him for where his partner had ended up. He thought that Harold Dobey was far too familiar with his men and in the case of his two prized detectives he let them get away with way too much in his own opinion. Trouble is, Dobey didn't take too kindly to any constructive feedback about those two, so Dobson had long ago learned to shut his mouth.

So with an air of frustration he pushed impatiently toward his counterpart's office, already feeling the defensive side of him rearing up as a response to the look that he just knew Hutchinson would throw at him as soon as the blond locked eyes on him.

When the young admin girl from the front office showed him into Dobey's office, he knew he had been right to feel defensive in anticipation.

Hutchinson was glaring at him with barely contained hostility and anger. All earlier thoughts of giving the younger man a piece of his mind was forgotten as he felt the full brunt of his simmering rage.

_What the hell now?_

Dobey looked uncomfortable and upset but invited his colleague into the room and guided him to the seat after shaking his hand. Hutchinson made no move to approach him – stayed leaning against the wall and simply nodded at him.

"Ok Harold. I'm here when I should be back at my own precinct with my own morning schedule of meetings and urgent memos to follow up. I only hope you have good reason for calling me over here with no apparent agenda on the table. You could have alluded to something more on the phone in order for me to prepare for whatever this is all about."

He turned now and tried to better assess the mood of the detective who was still just staring at him coolly.

"Oh but there is an _agenda_ and its important enough for you Captain. We didn't _allude_ to the situation on the phone because we needed you here and not following this up on your own home ground. This one is ours. More specifically - its mine."

"Harold? What the hell is this about?"

Again Hutchinson interrupted but this time he moved closer to the tense and now wary Captain from the Nineteenth.

"This, Captain, is about an investigation into the criminal behavior of one of your men – Detective Ryan Lancaster. I've made it clear to my own captain that I fully intend to blow open the truth about the Kalzo undercover operation involving my partner and your man Lancaster. In short I want you to demand his badge and hopefully to facilitate first an internal and then possibly a judicial investigation into his activities."

"What activities exactly are you referring to here Hutchinson."?

"His attempted murder of Detective David Starsky whilst under the guise of an undercover police operation and then subsequent and sustained threading of and actual bodily harm and sexual assault." He watched Dobson flinch and suck in his breath and had the strong desire to make him flinch even more. "Add to that – blackmail."

Dobson was visibly shaken and Hutch wanted more – wanted the captain who had held the power to have pulled the plug on the operation that had nearly destroyed his partner, to be damn well more than visibly shaken.

"I want a full and intensive Internal Affairs investigation into Ryan's personal and professional conduct, not just in the recent Kalzo case, but in his capacity as your Detective, Captain Dobson.

The water in your backyard pool is very muddy, so yeah; I would say it is important enough for you to leave your usual morning routine. As a Captain I think you'd agree _Sir_ that you need to be aware of what scum are swimming around in your own precinct. "

"Hutch – enough. Let's pull back a bit here from emotions and start at the beginning. Deal with the facts."

Dobey had held back knowing that he had little chance of stopping Hutch from lashing out at Dobson. He himself was curious as to how much of what this meeting would reveal was new to Dobson or whether he had suspicions of his own about Ryan Lancaster. If he did, Dobey already knew, he would be far from happy with the other Captain.

"I'd appreciate that Harold. I'm not at all clear what you're trying to say here Detective – but your allegations sound wild and displaced. It's also very obvious that the allegations are serious – very serious. If the basis of this meeting concerns allegations regarding Detective Lancaster and Detective Starsky – I am assuming allegations made by Detective Starsky – where may I ask is he? Why the hell isn't he here right now and putting all of this down himself?"

"David Starsky is on an undetermined stretch of suspended leave of his official duties. He is under care of the Departmental Doctor of Psychology. I think you may be aware of that - from our previous meetings."

Dobey was trying to hard to prevent Hutch from going off again at Dobson.

"Yes I know that. Probably point in fact – that he is under psychological evaluation and monitoring. Might these allegations you are obviously presenting on his behalf Detective be merely an indication, a reflection of his – err- current psychological functioning."

Hutch was fuming now and Dobey was concerned that he would lose control of the meeting. In response to Dobson's tasteless remarks Dobey was not surprised to hear Hutch's voice rising in volume to a level where anyone in the outer office could hear what was happening in this small room.

"The only reason Starsky isn't here right now is that he's had more than enough of your sick and twisted Detective Lancaster! The whole point of this meeting is to call your awareness to what Ryan Lancaster has been doing both during the course of the undercover operation and since it was completed. The very reason that Starsky is suspended, is under psychological review, and - is NOT HERE right now is the reason I have called this meeting!

Your detective is the one who should be under psychological review Captain Dobson – if not in fact behind bars. But that's not up to me to decide. That's the job for the I.A. But don't you dare ask me where my partner is. He's gone through more than enough with this whole dirty mess that you've allowed to unfold. Starting with the fucked up undercover operation that should have been halted when your detective was very obviously threatening my partner with a gun! "

"Hutch!"

"NO! I need to get this out Captain Dobey. Please…. Both of you – both of you could have stopped Ryan doing what he did to Starsk in that alley. You both agreed to let the case unravel itself. You both let Starsky have his life threatened. He fucking nearly died because no one pulled Ryan out when it was obvious something was not right. And it's just gone of from there – allowing a whitewash cover job of what really went on between Ryan and Starsky. Allowing IA just to gloss over it all."

"Your partner signed off and totally agreed with the report filed by Ryan Lancaster on the operation. You are well aware of that Hutchinson."

"Sure he did. Why wouldn't he? Ryan had him cornered with a straightforward case of blackmail and with that as his leverage, he has continued to break my partner down with his perverted sexual attacks. Ryan was using something about me to stop Starsky from coming forward about his treatment of him. Well I fucking don't care what Ryan does with that information. Ryan is one very very sick man Captain Dobson. I think that we won't have to scratch too deep to understand how that sickness has affected other officers on the job and his role as a senior officer in your precinct."

"I'll give you everything I know about Ryan's activities and twisted, depraved behaviour - but Captain Dobey you must give me your word that this information is contained. I want it contained. I know how quickly this sort of shit gets out, goes flying around the department.

You yourselves as Captains know what will happen once we make a move on Ryan. It will get out. And it will hurt Starsk -too much. He didn't ask for any of this shit to happen to him. All he did was do his job and do it well as he always does. I think that if he has to pay anymore for what Ryan has done to him – it'll be too much. I want your word – from both of you – this is to stay close – very close to just the IA and us. For Starsky's sake."

Dobey gave his detective a fond, almost melancholy look.

"Son I'll do my best. You know I will. Starsky is one half of my best two men. I don't want him to have to feel - to feel that he has been demoralised. "

He smiled affectionately at the blond other half of the partnership. Right now he needed to hold Hutch in check – pull him back from the edge of fury and acting out against Dobson – and himself – anyone that he could attack for what had been done to his partner. That was a fact. That was his responsibility. It was his job to keep Hutchinson from going down for insubordination against either himself or Dobson. However the words he spoke were solemn truth. He hoped that Hutch who was still disappointed and angry with him for not acting more pro-actively cutting the Kalzo operation off when the risk for Starsky became very clear

"If what you say has happened to him, has – I will be out for blood too. But I have little control over human nature. Every step to keep this investigation under wraps will be taken. That's all I can promise."

Dobey sincerity lay heavy in the air and Hutch calmed a little.

Dobson just sat with a shocked look on his face. The implications that his whole precinct was about to be gutted open for investigation had him wishing his squadron had never become involved with the Kalzo case.

"Well it'll have to be enough for now, because I want to move on this soon. I want Ryan picked up and brought before a formal enquiry. I want Starsky back on the streets beside me – back in a position he wouldn't have lost if not for Ryan. So let me put it all out here for you Captain Dobson. I'll tell you everything I have or know about your man. I then expect you to act and to act quickly.

If you don't – I'll go directly to IA and then higher in the department if need be myself. Are we clear?"

oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooO OOooo

The sleekness of the Torino slid into the side street. It's engine quietly thrumming against the distant sounds of the city traffic. The machine's red and white brightness was a stark contrast to the leached out gritty greyness of the sleazy backdrop that was Starsky's meeting place with the equally sleazy street Rat that was Mickey.

He wanted this meeting over and done with and to be on his way. Mickey had never been one of his favourite street informants. He had little time for the slime ball, even on his best days, and this being one of his very worst; his patience for the weasel would be in the negative territory.

Red zone. He was in the red zone – and barely holding it together. Anxiety and anger were rising in him in equal measure and the two weren't mixing well in his gut. If he was on the street right now with Hutch, he would be worried about his ability to keep his partner's back. His mind and his trigger finger were anything but steady. It was just as well he couldn't feel the familiar weight of his Smith and Wesson.

For Mickey's sake he hoped he had come up with the goods.

The rat was waiting for him, his beady blood shot eyes taking his measure as he climbed out of the Torino and moved toward him in the narrow laneway. He tried not to look too closely at the alley – tried not to perceive the filth and the coldness, the lack of color and the insulation from the main streets' city noises. Alleyways were where much of his and Hutch's time was spent – meeting low life crime and degenerates head on in their own territory. He should be used to it and he was used to it. One alley looked just like any other of the hundreds just the same – in color, sound and lurking threats. But since the undercover operation where he lay bleeding out is a very similar alley to the very one he was standing in right now – Starsky was taking an aversive stance to these parts of his fine city.

He wished now that he had agreed to meet Mickey in some bar or cheap hotel room.

Too late now as the snitch was smiling at him with his bad teeth and cracked lips. His eyes were filled with the greed and hunger of the payment he was anticipating from the curly haired detective.

He wore his customary heavy coat and Starsky had no doubt that beneath its layers was concealed the weapon he had requested plus a supply of bullets.

"Starsky. Great to see ya' friend. I have had a useful coupla' hours. I've been able to get the things you asked for. The – ah – first thing ya' wanted – its here."

He patted his overcoat.

"In a minute – closer to the car. Did you get a supply of bullets?"

"Yes enough till you can get to a supplier ya'self. The gun is clean as far as I know – no trace on it. Similar to your usual handgun. Heard you was off the street – not rollin' with Hutchinson no more? Got himself a new kid partner – that's what we heard on the streets. Seen the kid around with him. So what gives Starsky?"

"Mickey, Mickey. Ya' gotta learn to listen. No questions right? Remember that? No questions. Just the stuff I asked for and nothin' else ok? You're a rat Mickey, a finking rat, so act like one and don't go crossin' the path with questions that will only make me angry. I'm already pretty angry Mickey. Understand?"

"Yeah…yeah…Starsky I hear ya'. Course I do. Now the place for ya' to crash. Here's the address and the map though it's not too far off the main coast road. There's a security system but its deactivated. Here are the keys to the main front door and the electric garage.

It's all cool for ya ' to use if for up to a week if need be. Powers on and water, phone line too. No-one will disturb ya' the next six, seven days. Need to be out by next Saturday, just lock up and leave keys on the entry table. "

"Are you sure the place is empty and no-one will be dropping in? Don't much feel in the mood for surprise visitors Mickey."

"Sure – sure. It's all cool. Double-checked the arrangements. It's a reliable contact that gets me these sort of hangouts for – well – for friends like you Starsky, who need some privacy and space."

"Good, That's good Mickey. You've done damn well in a short space of time. Now walk with me over to the car and let me have the gun and ammo and then I'll take the keys and map. I've got the payment for ya' Mickey, as promised."

Moments later with the gun, ammo, keys and map handed over and stored in the Torino, Starsky turned to the bad breathed, limp and greasy, haired man before him.

"So the money as agreed. There – as you can see Mickey that is a lot of money. I'm givin' you that much because I'm payin' ya' extra Mickey. Extra to make sure ya' keep your dirty mouth closed about all of this. Everything that has gone on between us today. I want to buy your word Mickey. No one – no one knows about where I am gonna be. NO ONE! Are you hearing me Mickey? "

"I hear ya' Starsky. Of course…no one. Got some bad dudes chasin' ya tail Starsky?"

"You're askin' questions again Mickey. Gotta' learn to remember. "

Mickey badly wanted to ask the obvious question – which concerned the other half of the Starsky and Hutch duo. Where was Hutch amongst all of this clandestine behavior by a very surly and ill-tempered Starsky?

But Mickey kept his mouth shut and instead used his nimble nicotine stained fingers to pocket the wad of cash Starsky now transferred into his palm.

"That's for the gun, place and your time. It's a fair payment for what you've so far delivered Mickey. If I find that the place is a dead end and if I find that you've let my whereabouts be known, there will be some extra payment coming your way. But Mickey – ya' know me well enough to know I don't joke about these things, don't ya'?"

He waited until the small dirty man nodded his head vigorously.

"Well if I find out you've let me down on those two things Mickey, I will make sure I come back and make that extra payment to ya' real fast. I'll be still passing it to ya' with my hands Mickey, but it won't be money – I'll be paying ya' back in different ways. And I'll enjoy doin' it – remember that won't ya'?"

A minute of so later the Torino drove quietly out of the dirty side street and away. The driver was in no way wanting to make a show of his presence in the dim alley way by creating excessive noise and allowing his car to be a focal point for anyone who flicked across their curtain to see what the commotion might be.

Mickey watched the retreating form of the red and white car.

Starsky had been more dangerous today than he had ever been in his interactions with him on the streets. Without his partner it was like he was a ruthless version of himself – intent on only getting his own needs met.

The weight and the feel of the wad of money was satisfying in his grubby hand. He carefully folded it into the layers of his voluminous and stained overcoat.

A profitable day. But in the end what was a rat if not an entrepreneur. Life on the streets was all about maximizing gains, making the most out of contacts and links. Using the very people who used him.

And anyway, he held no allusions that Starsky held him in high regard. Anyone would tell you that you could count on Mickey for certain things but in the long run a rat was a rat.

Mickey was already formulating ways to make his transaction with Detective David Starsky doubly profitable.

So engrossed in his greedy projections of income that he paid little attention to a tall, bulky form that had been pressed against the wall of the alley, after carefully stepping out of the doorway where he had concealed his presence for the past fifteen or so minutes. The dark haired figure walked quietly away – back up the alley and away from the unsavory looking character whom Starsky had been involved with in an exchange of words and goods only minutes ago. He walked toward the car that he had parked well out of sight when he had realized the route that the Torino was taking through the backstreets.

He figured that once he had his car moving, he would quickly pick up the obvious Torino in his sights back out on the main street.

Starsky was on a mission and gathering from the transaction that had just taken place in this lowlife backstreet, Ryan was guessing that Starsky was also aware of something going down back at his precinct.

Had Hutchinson told him what he was doing with Dobey and Dobson?

It would be interesting to know exactly what Starsky had been negotiating with the weasel in the street. For one moment he considered walking toward the pathetic man and getting the information he wanted.

It would have been easy to shove the dirty little bastard up against the wall and hold his gun to his head - he'd have all that he needed to know in no time. Weasels weren't discriminating about whom they shared their knowledge - not when money or a gun were doing the talking.

But, it would be just as easy and less messy to simply do what he liked doing best – keep his eyes on Starsky. That after all was the game of his choice. If Hutchinson had ripped everything open, then all bets were off for hands off his partner.

What did he have to lose?

Pulling his own car out onto the main street he already had the big red car in his sights ahead - caught in a snarl of traffic in the turning lane.

Where Starsky was going - so was Ryan.


	8. Chapter 8

**Then Neither Can He**

**Chapter 8**

The crisp, clean lines of the concrete and glass structure barely registered with him. It's modernistic and spare design blended into the sandy scrub – all pristine white on golden white. Lots of glass and metal touches . Cutting edge architecture. Certainly not his usual style or choice for a weekend casual hangout.

But then this wasn't his usual weekend. And he wasn't here for a casual hangout. There was nothing usual about anything in his life at the moment and walking into some strange bare, minimalistic beach hide-away left him feeling as divorced in his physical world as he felt divorced in his head from himself and his life.

Mickey had sure delivered. Probably a little too well in fact. He had simply wanted a pad to crash in, that was secluded and quiet, not some designer beach house that looked like it would serve well in a movie set for Christ Sake.

Where did these weasels get these places anyway? He just hoped that which ever Mafia middle man, drug addicted celebrity or high-class roller owned this joint was not likely to turn up to their home in the next 72 hours. He wondered vaguely what Mickey had on the owner of this place to be able to score it for his other 'client's' needs?

In the end what did it matter? Weasels and street players worked their angles and played both sides to whatever advantage they could. In another time and another place he would have questioned the legality of Mickey's resources. Tonight he simply didn't care.

All that mattered was he was here. He had achieved that much.

He chose what he thought was meant to be the master bedroom and strode through across its palatial perimeter. With casual feline grace he threw his incongruously humble and beaten up duffel bag down on the huge plush bed. The upmarket furnishings and sheer size of the bedroom suite had him shaking his head. Drawn to the wide expanse of clear glass that framed the dramatic view of the crashing waves, he unlocked the door and slid the smooth door to open. At any other time he would have dropped down in one of the easy lounges on the generous balcony, beer in hand and just wallowed in these sheer majestic surrounds.

Now? He was too agitated, too displaced to even settle for a moment.

What the hell was he going to do rattling around in this big concrete and glass box with its acres of white tiles and marble finished bathrooms for the next few days?

What in the fuck was he even doing here?

For the past few hours he had been driven on pure instinct – the instinct to put as much distance between him and his home as he could possibly achieve in the minimum amount of time and with a minimum amount of mental reserve.

A place to be, to sit and think, a place to be totally alone. No one would be calling him, knocking on his door, catching him unawares when and if he might decide to leave the sanctuary for food or supplies. No one who would remind him that he was what he was inside his own head – a cop who had let another cop mess so badly with his life and his work that he had made him doubt everything about himself.

Alone in the car on the drive up the long winding coastal road he had finally begun to face the truth that Hutch had held up in front of him to look at. The truth about himself and his behavior in the past weeks.

The bar fight, the young girl, the snide comments to Hutch's poor Riley, the reckless drinking and bravado – none of that was him. He had feigned indifference and denial when Hutch presented him with the facts – but he knew of course that Hutch was right. The foggy memory of forcing himself on the young woman only the previous night had him cringing.

That behavior was not him – not his personal style, nor did it sit well with his own moral framework. Irrespective of her leads and coercion, he would never have resorted to what he did last night with someone so young. The Starsky that had all but forced himself on her had not been the Starsky he lived with every day. But, it was the Starsky he knew he was fast becoming. A grittier, disillusioned, lower self esteemed version of his former self. This transformation, this degeneration of himself had been a work in progress since the day during the Kalzo operation when he sensed that Ryan was playing a sick game with him.

All of it was there in front of him now to examine. The fighting, shoving, dominating, verbal bullying – all of it his lame way of kicking back at what Ryan had stripped away from him.

And then Ryan's tainting of him stripped him even further – he'd lost his badge. His job was at the core of his identity and his backbone. Without it he was energy without a purpose. It was a sobering realization, but he had long been aware of it. His identity was melded into that badge and all the parts of him and the roles he played, that went along with that badge. More than half of him was embodied in his partnership with Hutch – as cops on the streets, cops at home still sharing cases, hashing out scenarios, thinking and reacting like cops even off duty.

From the moment that Ryan had felled him in that alleyway and sank that knife into his side, that whole identity had been shattered. Ryan took away what being a cop meant to him. As a cop he had resolve, conviction, goals, and black and white rules to live by in the technicolor world of criminality. His badge, his job and all that went with – primarily his brotherhood with Hutch, his partnership with him, were his constants.

But Ryan left him for dead - tried to kill him and left him for dead.

When he had woken up in the hospital he felt it.

He sense of all that was solid in his identity and his life had shifted.

All that had been unshakeable had been shaken.

And then Ryan had come back to take more from him. And when there was little left of him to take, Ryan tried to take Hutch down too. Tried to use Hutch's interlude into heroin addiction against him.

Ryan had cast Starsky in the role of victim. He might have believed he wanted him as his lover, but in reality all he had done was make Starsky his pathetic victim.

This was what being a victim was – capitulating over and over again until there was nothing left.

He had pulled one of the still cold beers from the six-pack he had picked up as he turned off the main road a few miles back. He hadn't bothered with food – he planned only enough to get the beers and get to his destination.

Then today had happened.

All he had left in life, or so it seemed, had been his connection with Hutch. Even Ryan couldn't touch that. Or so he had thought.

Ryan could bruise it, bend it, twist it but in the end the force between him and his partner was impenetrable.

Sure they could mess each other up – and they frequently did. Time and time again. Argue, curse, mock, patronize, one-up each other – but in the end what they had was always put back together. Sure they might give each other some emotional bruising. But - it would always end in the other holding the "make it up and put it behind us" icepack for the one who'd been bruised.

Then today. Today happened – and tonight, tonight Starsky was still wondering how much ice would be needed to take the bruising out of this blow. What words or actions could bring solace to Hutch going against him on this one?

He wondered how many calls Hutch or Dobey – then Hutch again, as Hutch would keep trying to reach him, had put through to his apartment. No doubt had the calls been answered by him he would have heard carefully constructed lines in the vein of ' Just come on down here to the station so we can all put this on the table and talk about it.'

Well he didn't think any amount of talking would help him now. Not once the Department knew Ryan had done him over physically and sexually. Not once the Department found out that Hutch was hiding scars of needle tracks under his shirtsleeves.

He didn't want to fucking talk.

He'd been too proud to talk – to the shrink, to Dobey – to Hutch.

Hutch had pulled out the stops. He just kept on wanting to be let in – inside his head. And now he had gone to Dobey with it all. But this had happened to him – to him, not Hutch. Why couldn't he damn well just leave it alone? Why did he always think he had to make everything better when all this would do would make it worse?

The sun was sliding completely away now and he opened his second beer.

The soft dusky light reflected off the darkening ocean outside and the noise of the waves was so rhythmical it was already quieting his overwrought mind. Beers, driving and the sound of the ocean – a combination that was mellowing his anxiety and last vestiges of anger.

The view of the open expanse of ocean and darkening sand was captivating.

_Hutch would love this place. He'd love to be out there right now jogging along that endless stretch of beach_.

The phone was staring at him. An open line as Mickey had promised.

So easy to call him now – hear his calm, modulated voice. He would be speaking but listening too – trying to work out how his buddy was. Then of course there would be questions, and concerns – offers to come and talk, to be with him. Hutch would reassure him that everything was going to be alright.

But it wasn't all right. Starsky couldn't even begin to see how it could be all right again. In order to go back to work, he had to spill his guts to the departmental shrink – who had already worked out there was a lot that Starsky needed to spill.

If he stayed suspended like he had been, his behavior was in self-destruct mode – which it had been. Because he had been in self-destruct mode, Hutch had taken matters into his own hands. The guts that Starsky hadn't wanted to spill to the shrink would be spread all over the squad room and all through the department.

_Here ya' all go ! Here are my spilled guts everywhere – whether you want 'em or not. I didn't want to do it to ya' guys – would have spared ya' all the sordid details. But there you go – secret's out now. _

Two – onto his third - beer in, Starsky headed back to the big open bedroom. The shower beckoned and the clothes he had on since early that morning now felt constraining and stale.

He slipped into the warm shower –the bathroom's comfortable and luxurious fixtures and surrounds lost on him. Only the water was a comfort. Only the heat was a luxury.

He touched his still so tender side and thought of the knife projecting out – jutting out at that obscene angle. The imagery of his own guts slippery, wet and tainted falling out of him brought on a sudden rush of nausea. Spilled guts – his guts, all over the Department. In many ways it was as though Ryan had really gutted him in the very sense of the word when he drove in that blade. Surgery and sutures couldn't really stop what was inevitable.

Ryan had succeeded. He had sliced Starsky open and now he couldn't hold himself together in one piece anymore.

Nor it seemed could Hutch.

oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOooo

It was getting dark by now and he was getting increasingly cramped and bored waiting in the car. He'd followed the Torino carefully – all the way up the winding coastal road and pulled back when he realized that the final destination had been reached.

It wasn't an easy feat to tail a cop, especially a cop as wary and experienced as Starsky. But then when it was a cop tailing a cop – the situation was different. Ryan prided himself on his own level of prowess and his own set of skills in the area of detective work. He had honed them over the years on undercover jobs, just like the man he had followed all the way here from the outer city limits. He knew that he and Starsky were matched equals on a professional level even though it was his fantasy to overpower the other detective in the personal arena.

In his own mind, way back since the Academy he had liked to imagine that Starsky was _his _partner, not Hutchinson's. Starsky was meant to be his partner – on the streets and in the bedroom and for these years he resented the hold that Hutchinson held over him and the bond that the two of them shared. Over the past month or more his resentment for that union and his feelings toward the Starsky's blond partner had gone from disdain to pure hatred.

Hutchinson had always stood between him and the one he wanted. Starsky was so beguiled by his partner that he could see no other, would not entertain the potential of anyone else in his life. Finally with the undercover operation, its sequelae and his persistence Ryan believed he was breaking through this armor the two had built around themselves. Off the streets and no lingered partnered with Hutchinson, Starsky was more his own man, more vulnerable, more open to new opportunities. There was a definite sense that the two of them were more adrift from each other – no longer the single unit that he had come across that day in the squad room at their precinct.

And now. Now Starsky was totally alone. It was obvious now that he was acting independently of his partner. He had come to this isolated spot by himself, had orchestrated an underhanded arrangement to secure this house without it would seem Hutchinson's involvement or knowledge. All of this had been carried out quite hurriedly on the heels of Hutch calling the meeting with Dobson and Dobey.

Ryan's detecting instincts were on overdrive. It would seem that he was not the only one unhappy with what would appear to be Hutchinson's uncovering of what had gone on between him and Starsky. It was apparent that the blond, in trying to protect his beloved partner by running to the brass, had pissed not only him off, but also it would seem, Starsky too. The very man he was trying to protect. Ryan had to laugh. What a complete fuck up Hutchinson was making of it all.

The joke was on him all around. While he was back in the city trying to pin his ass on the departmental Wanted board, trying to make it all better for his Starsky – the two people he was trying to separate were here together. Here in this isolated, remote and by all accounts from the outside, very comfortable beach house. They were here alone, miles from the city and now – and this was the highlight of the show – he, had absolutely nothing to lose anymore. Hutchinson would be already galvanizing Dobson into taking him off duty, putting him under the IA microscope, more than likely taking his badge.

What the fuck did it matter now what he did now or how he did it? His number was more than likely up – so might as well go for the big prize.

Serendipity had brought him here. He had followed his lover who was equally upset about what Hutchinson had done.

You stupid sonofabitch – you've thrown your partner right at me.

Ryan sneered in the semi dark of his car.

_Well thank you very much Detective Hutchinson. I graciously accept the gift you have provided._

The car dashboard showed that his gift had been inside now for over forty-five minutes. Should be more than enough time to have settled himself and be relaxed.

_Hope you're all relaxed for me Starsk…. because I'm coming in – lover._

oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOooo

Four times – four times he had tried to get him on the phone and each time nothing. It was hard to remember the last time that Starsky had ever picked up to answer. Surely he must know the way he let the phone ring and ring that it was him – that he was worried, concerned.

_Be realistic Hutch. You didn't expect him to answer. You know he's hurt and pissed at you. You know he wants nothing to do with any of this. As if he's going to pick up the fucking phone._

"He's not answering Cap'n. Hasn't been answering his phone for days now. There's no point in trying anymore. "

"Well then you'll just have to go over and get him. He needs to be here Hutch. You know that. We can't go forward with anything until we have Starsky in here with a statement on record."

"I know that. Of course I know that – but he wants no part of this. He never wanted me to do this. That's the whole damn problem here. That's why that maniac Ryan has been tramping all over his life – that's why Starsky needs to see the departmental Doc – Ryan has screwed him up and Starsky just wants to bury the whole mess."

"Well you've come forward now and we need to take action. If all you've said is true –" he held up his big meaty hands to stop Hutch's protests and lash back. "If, it is backed up by a statement from Starsky and we can prove the allegations, then Ryan will be taken care of immediately. But without Starsky – what have we got here Hutch? "

"Ryan has been holding me over his head. I told you that earlier."

"Yes – and I can see how that would have been a big deterrent for Starsky. He put a lot of man-hours, a lot of blood sweat and tears in getting you through that terrible time after the Forrest ordeal Hutch. I watched him go through it even when you were better. The fear, the risk that it would all come out and be distorted and used against you. We both protected you against that risk Hutch – I'm as worried as he is that Ryan could blow this all up in our faces. I personally don't care about an internal reprimand for "not noticing" what had happened to you – but Starsky – he will pay a big price to see it get used against you. You say you don't care about your own position on the force being jeopardized and I know that is honorable when you are wanting to make what happened to Starsky go away. But remember – Starsky will not want to see you go down in ashes for something he has painstakingly worked against – to stop that very thing from happening. To stop you from losing your career because of judgmental in-house politics and prejudices. "

"What exactly are you trying to say here Captain?"

"That you want Ryan. You want Ryan because he has hurt Starsky - physically and psychologically. But in order to get Ryan you have to put Starsky through equally painful hurt – at least on the psychological level. Starsky knows that – he made his decision to work this out his own way. Your way may not be the way he is prepared to work it out."

"Of course its not! Because he will stay quiet for me and because he doesn't what the shame of what Ryan did to him become public knowledge. But Ryan is not going to go away Cap'n. He is escalating – he's mad. I don't know how far he will go to hurt Starsky – or me – because that hurts Starsky too. Someone has to stop him. I'm certain there is evidence or trails of other inappropriate or semi criminal activity he has used with other officers on the force over the years. It must be able to be uncovered. He's obsessed with Starsky now – but in the past I bet we will find other officers he fixated himself upon."

He went on.

"And that is why we don't know about them. Like Starsky, they would rather bury their victimization than have themselves pulled into the cesspool of departmental gossip and here say.

"I'm certain of it. And so you must ensure that Starsky is protected – all of this stays confidential – tightly wrapped up. Purely on 'a need to know basis' only."

Dobey smiled sadly and put his deeply furrowed face into his cupped hands.

"Hutch – that's utopia. You know it is."

"Ok – Ok…..So you want me to do NOTHING? You want that this animal just keeps trolling the department for new meat? Works out his obsession with Starsk eventually – not just yet. He hasn't finished with him yet….but let's just leave him get Starsky out of his system in whatever way he finds he needs to. Maybe attack him a few more times, drive him to the brink of insanity, take his badge away FOREVER. And then when he's finally tired of him, throw him aside and then move onto the next officer who gets assigned to him. Like Riley? Riley! He could so nearly have had him.

And none of them will want to come forward because Ryan has them all in the corner – his badge but their careers, their disgrace because they were unfortunate enough to be chosen by the sick fucker. Unfortunate enough to have their whole lives FUCKED over by him.

He is insane Captain. Quietly and ruthlessly insane. He's calculating and careful – manipulative and intelligent. That's why he's a good cop. A very good cop – unless you happen to be someone he wants sexually. Than God help you. He's also incredibly strong and violent.

Ryan is a psychopath Captain. This is not just about IA and office gossip. He is a psychologically depraved human with sexually violent tendencies. Either you get him or I'll go find another avenue."

Dobey knew they were at a stalemate. He knew also that Hutch was at his end with all of this. He needed to draw some line to define where they were headed.

"We have your statements. On that basis Dobson is calling Ryan in for the IA to begin some initial questioning. That is happening now. You – you need to calm down, think like a cop and understand where we are placed here with this "criminal allegation against a fellow cop". Get Starsky in here. I don't know how you'll do it – but without statements from him – IA are going to walk away once the flurry has worn off. Proof. Think like a cop Hutch. Proof or at least a statement of transgressions that Ryan has made against Starsky. Not just your allegations."

"And what about digging deeper? What about other officers who he may have messed with in the nineteenth or further back? Dobson must have some inkling. For God's Sake! He knows more than he's putting up."

" That's for IA to dig into. Not us. Not you. There's nothing we can do until Starsky either revokes his statement of what happened with the Kalzo job or gives us fresh information on subsequent offensive behavior by Ryan. Either way Hutch – it's all pointless until you get Starsky in here. Also we need to see which way Ryan will jump. Will he deny everything? Will he attempt to distort the allegations by saying that Starsky was consensual? Will he actually go ahead with blowing the lid on your heroin ordeal? Who knows what he'll do?"

Dobey stood up now.

"I'm going to check in with Dobson. The day's drawing on. Go get your partner. It'll probably take you a while. Do whatever you can do to make him see reason. It won't be easy, because as much as I more than anyone can appreciate that you and he know each other like no other – I know him fairly well too. Starsky will not be happy with any of this. He won't like being painted as weak or as a victim of sexual violence. Good luck. Call me when you get to his place – let me know how it's going for you with him."

Hutch stood to leave. It was true. Their captain did know them well. Starsky would rather die than be spurned by the culture that he lived for – to be a strong, good cop in a department where he was accepted and acknowledged as being a strong, good cop.

Simple as that. Take that away from him and he would not be Starsky. But Hutch had made a choice to have Starsky, even though it might be Starsky without his honor and his pride.

Dobey was right. Hutch had made the choice – not Starsky.

There were no black and whites here. He knew Starsky loved black and whites.

There wasn't one play on the chessboard that left a clear win.

_You cocksucker Ryan, you have checkmated my every move_.

oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOooo

The warm shower and the cold beer had left him boneless. Fresh clothes, his favourite worn jeans and soft blue shirt added to his sense of quiet calmness and physical comfort. The white softness of the huge bed accepted his weight as he rolled into it and his head sank deep into the oversized pillow. The breeze from the ocean through the open door fresh and alive. Finally some of the alarming tension was draining out of him.

_God this was almost therapeutic. Mickey had landed him a spot in a freakin' spa resort...Dirty snitch was finally good for something..._

Just to lie there for a little while. That's all he wanted to do – just lie there and not think. The sound of the waves were all that he was prepared to let into his head. Nothing else.

Darkness was falling and he knew it would be smart to drive out soon to look for a meal close by before it got too late. The meal would be purely to give his body some fuel for he felt no hunger. He wondered in fact if he would ever feel real hunger again.

Just a few moments of lying here then he would get dressed and go – get in a few supplies for the next few days as well.

All intentions were quickly lost.

Sleep descended upon him. It overtook him.

It left him unprepared.

oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOooo

"Cap'n. He's not here Cap'n. I just knew it – he's gone."

"Hutchinson? Pull it together! Who? Starsky? Well just find him – he'll be somewhere. Probably down at Huggy's."

"I've been to Huggy's. He hasn't seen him. He's overnight bag is gone. The Torino's gone. There's no message left here. Cap'n I think he's taken off – when I told him I was coming in to you."

Hutch look despairingly about the empty, still apartment.

"I was worried he would do something like this."

The words were spoken more to himself than to the man on the other end of the phone.

"Hutchinson? Hutch?"

"There's nothing you can do about getting Starsky in here now. He's obviously laying low – knew he'd be called in for statements. He'll surface. We'll wait to see what Dobson pulls up with Ryan. You need to go home and get some sleep before you drop. You're supposed to be on again with Riley aren't you?"

No answer.

"Hutchinson? Go home now. Sleep for a few hours. I'll let you know what develops with Ryan. Nothing moves quickly in Internal Affairs as you know. "

"See you later than Cap'n."

Dobey looked at the handpiece suddenly gone quiet.

Why didn't he believe his detective was going to heed even one word of his advice?

He looked at the wall clock. Over an hour since Dobson had agreed to bring Ryan in for questioning. A call from him was overdue by now.

Dobey's substantial girth was beginning to press heavily on his constricted lungs. Either that or he was feeling apprehensive about a situation that had a bad feel to it. The familiar tightening in his chest always plagued him when his bad feelings were in play. This time he knew – the constriction was from apprehension more than that thirty or more extra pounds he was carrying.

Tapping his pencil on the desk, he made a concerted effort to breathe deeply. His phone buzzed and interrupted his breathing patterns. Gruffly, he answered. He gave up completely on his breathing technique when he heard Dobson's grave tone on the other end.

oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOooo

Dobey's constricted breathing was getting worse. He had called Hutchinson three times in the past twenty minutes and still no answer. Surely he would have reached home by now after leaving Starsky's. He looked down at his small bottle of antacid tablets as he shook another two into his palm. How could he have possibly gone through most of that bottle already?

_Gotta stop knockin' this stuff back. Must be the damn rough coffee giving me an ulcer._

He knew it wasn't the coffee just like it wasn't his overweight condition that was causing all of these symptoms of bodily stress.

When his door flung open his head snapped up to look straight into the face of one half of what was causing all of these symptoms.

"Hutchinson! What the hell? I've been trying to get you on your phone at home. Aren't you s'posed to be getting some shut-eye? What are you doing back here again?"

Dobey was stalling and even he could hear the thinly veiled anxiety in his own voice.

"Well – what has happened? Dobson – did he get the IA boys over to the Nineteenth yet? Any news back on how they are managing with Ryan? I know we don't have Starsky's statement yet – but surely they must have acted on what Dobson has briefed them on so far. Christ – tell me they have got someone other than Simmoneti in on this. We need a fresh slate to start on here…..

Dobey's face told him. Told him that a wall had been hit already.

"God! What's the problem? IA refusing to get off their asses to start the procedure?"

"No, IA are taking this very seriously – they have already gotten onto me. Yes there are two new officers involved. But that's not the problem."

"Well? Ryan being a prick? Refusing to say anything until we have Starsky's side of the story on paper? Sick, manipulative bastard…"

"No."

"Well? What the - ?"

Dobey looked down at the bottle with the dwindling supply of tablets. His stomach sorely needed another antacid and now his head was demanding an aspirin.

_Might as well get it over with_. He looked back up.

The creased forehead with the deep cleft between a pair of tired and worried blue eyes were waiting for him.

"Seems Ryan Lancaster is no where to be found. Left his desk hours ago – didn't sign out or leave any radio contact. Hasn't reported back. Dobson has no knowledge of his whereabouts…..

Don't look at me like that Hutchinson! You think I like this situation? Damn mess that's what all of this is – a damn mess! Hutchinson! Get back here – where are you going?"

He pushed out from behind his desk and took off after his detective as he turned on his heel and slammed out into the squad room.

"Hutchinson I said wait and that is an order!"

All eyes in the room watched the pair.

Hutch turned slowly, his hand on the squad room door, fury on his face. He didn't speak to his captain but swept his glacial eyes over the pairs of interesting watching ones.

"What the fuck are you all looking at?" he spat.

"Come back in here Hutch – we need to talk."

"As you have reminded me Captain – I am officially off duty. But if you need me I'll be over the Nineteenth Precinct."

Dobey walked over to him and all but pushed them both out of the doors into the hallway. He turned quickly and barked at the audience of officers.

"Hutchinson's right. What're you all looking at? Get back to work all of you."

Hutch stood to the side leaning on the wall – his body sagging.

"What the hell do you think you're going to achieve going over to Dobson's station now?"

"Going to rattle the cages and see if anyone knows anything – anything at all about what this asshole's moves might be. Someone must know something –must know him – could give me some sort of lead."

"Dobson was clear. No-one has any idea of where he is or why he's AWOL."

"I only need to know the _where_ , you know we already know the _why_."

"I know it looks bad son…"

Hutch gave a dispirited laugh.

_Dobey was pulling out the "Son" . Shit he must be nearly as worried as me._

"Hey yeah. It looks bad – real bad. But how do you think it feels Cap'n? Ironic isn't it? Here I am – fucking running around trying to peg Ryan to keep him away from Starsk…."

He faltered, shook his head.

"And that ….that…animal …is doing exactly what I've been trying to stop him from doing this whole time I've been busy taking on the fucking 'bureaucratic, legal' channels to stop him. Starsk is missing, Ryan's missing. It's pretty damn obvious – he knew what was happening here with Dobson. He's one step ahead all the time. Why did I bother with all of this stupid useless crap?"

He looked down and saw his hands rubbing roughly on his forearms - something he'd managed to limit himself from doing in the past weeks. With self reproach he tore his hands away and grabbed his right fist tightly in his left palm.

"I should've just gone straight to his desk and cuffed the motherfucker myself."

Dobey watched his anguish and rubbed tiredly at his own stiff neck.

"We have two missing officers, from two different precincts. Just because they are known to each other doesn't mean the two situations are related."

He was trying to rationalize but it held little water even for him let alone for Hutchinson.

"You don't want me to go to Ryan's precinct? Then only one course of action we can take – I want APB's out on both of them. Has Dobson got the details on what vehicle Ryan had out? Police issue or private?"

"There isn't enough to warrant an APB on Starsky and you know it."

"Fuck it then! Not that I thought you'd stand on procedure right now Captain. "

He heard himself use Dobey's non contracted title –it happened whenever he was angry with him. He was aware of the habit and didn't try to quell it. He wanted Dobey to know how damn angry he was with the whole Department and as a figure head his Captain was in the direct firing line.

"Then surely there is already one out on Ryan. Afterall he is supposed to be detained for questioning over an 'alleged' assault and attempted murder of a fellow police officer."

"Then come back into the office with me now and we'll follow all of this up. I know if you go on a rampage at the nineteenth there will be all sorts of grief for you. We have to handle this carefully and quietly. Isn't that what you want for Starsky?"

Hutch slumped.

"Of course it is – but right now – I'm just more concerned that Ryan is looking for Starsky – or –Starsky is looking for Ryan. I just need to know Starsk is ok."

"Go home Hutch. Go home and get some sleep. You can't think when you're dead on your feet. Starsky might ring you at home. I'll check out the APB and put it in place with Dobson if he hasn't already done it. Do you want me to cancel you out for tonight's shift?"

He was defeated. What else could he do? Where else could he go? Starsky didn't want to be found and he had no intention of contacting him while he still felt the way he did. He had no evidence whatsoever that he was in danger, even if he felt the fear clawing him from the inside out. Perceptions weren't something that was likely to justify a need for the Department to arrange for an APB to be put out on his partner.

In the end there was little else to do except wait on news from the Nineteenth Precinct about Ryan and for his own captain to facilitate the APB via Dobson. He couldn't scour the streets looking for the red Torino, nor contact every person that he and Starsky knew in the hope that he was holed up in some ex girlfriend's place. Starsky had gone underground – for now – for however long he thought he needed to stay there.

The best chance of contact with him was via a phone call – so in the end he caved. So exhausted was he that he had conceded that no amount of leg work at the moment, was going to yield anything.

"I'll be at home until my shift starts. Call me with anything…anything at all. "

oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOooo

Crashing waves disguised any sound that his careful footfall might make as he climbed over the balcony's edge. It hadn't been hard to climb up the firm structure of the large balcony facing the ocean. Dark for a while now there was still enough moonlight to make his ascent easy. He'd been soundlessly casing the perimeter of the big house for the last ten minutes and was surprised that Starsky could be so stupid as to leave the bedroom door wide open. Closer to the door now he put his back against the wall and edged along closer to the darkened opening of the door.

With his body pressed flush to the door he listened. Nothing. No noises, no lights.

Where was he? Was he in the outer living areas? The house had been in near darkness when he had done his cruise around it minutes before and there was no sign of life anywhere in the living areas.

He must be in bed. Asleep?

He twisted his head and moved to angle himself to get an interior view of the room. His right hand felt for his gun at his side. He would draw on Starsky and take him by surprise if necessary. The element of surprise would give him the upper hand if it came down to gunfire.

His eyes adjusted to the murky darkness of the inner large bedroom.

He smiled. The hand that had been on ready for his weapon relaxed. Looks like he wouldn't be needing to draw his weapon.

In the semi dark with just enough filtered moonlight picking out features in the room – a tousled dark head was visible. The even rhythmical sound of breathing denoted a sleeping body.

_Not just let his guard down, totally and utterly vulnerable. Lost all your cop instincts Starsk? Or – just hoping for me to come along and find you like this?_

Daring, more daring now and also excited, Ryan slunk further into the room. So close to his him now - he was so close and so unaware of him standing over him. Watching him.

Laid out before him, waiting for him, his muscular body moulded into the soft mattress, was Starsky. His prize.

Joy, lust and violence were brimming over in him and his breath choked as he strained to hold the ferocity of the emotions back, to hold them inside until he could prepared himself for his ultimate experience.

If anyone had been there to see his eyes, the full gamut of this man's mental state would have been reflected in their dark depths.

Those dark eyes were full of madness.


	9. Chapter 9

**Then Neither Can He**

**Chapter 9**

Riley watched him as he entered the squad room. Something was definitely wrong – with the whole feel of this room, with Captain Dobey who had left only about half an hour ago and most markedly with Hutch who looked like utter hell.

His clothes were different from last night which indicated that he had at least gone home for a shower after the night shift but his haggard face told the story that he had not slept in perhaps more than twenty-four hours.

Uncertain, as he still was on premature footing with his senior officer, Riley was guarded in his approach to him as he watched Hutch pick up his pile of messages from the desk and start shuffling impatiently through them.

One of the admin girls walked past and Hutch threw her a question.

"Dobey gone? Leave any messages for me?"

"He only just recently left to go home and said to let you know that there was no further news from Captain Dobson since he last spoke to you on the phone."

_Of course there wasn't. Why the hell did he even bother asking? Dobey would have let him know if there'd been any developments. _

Everything was in limbo. Nothing going forward. Suspended. Starsky out there somewhere, God knew where, and Ryan unaccounted for – no call ins on the APB for his last used vehicle.

And here he was – back in the station, supposedly clocking on for night shift with Riley as regular as if it was just another day in the office. He could have pulled out of the shift – he knew he should have. Running on empty as he was, no sleep, nerves frayed it was hardly the makings of a fully functioning cop. But he needed to be here – something had to break soon to snap this sense of limbo.

Riley was looking at him, he felt it and looked up from his papers to confirm his perception of the young man's eyes on him.

_Poor damn kid – some partner I am. Got my head in my ass focused on anything but him and the job. He deserves better than this, better than a supervising partner who hasn't had the time or the inclination to even check in with him._

Suddenly the guilt for his neglect of his young protégé rose to the surface.

"Hey Riley. How bout' you bring some coffee over here and we talk."

The guilt deepened when he saw the bloom on the kid's face and the barely contained enthusiasm to hurriedly assemble the cups of coffee and settle himself at the desk with his supervising Sergeant.

Hutch spoke softly now, he wanted to keep the situation as quiet as possible. Pointless really he knew, as most of the room's officers probably knew the situation for what it was. Starsky was missing, another officer from another precinct and another Captain were involved as was their own Captain Dobey. Most of all everyone knew that Hutchinson was stuck in the thick of it and more irritable than even his recent weeks of protracted moodiness.

At least they had the sense to leave him alone and give him space. His countenance made if clear that he was not open to prying questions and curiosities. Not unless of course anyone had anything constructive for him to assist with finding the two men.

"Look Riley. I'm sorry. I know I've been pre-occupied and unavailable to you a lot over the past days. You know it's to do with Starsky. You probably already know he's gone underground since – well since I decided that I wanted some action taken for why he's been suspended. I can't tell you the details. You no doubt have worked some of it out for yourself. I think that you know how I feel about Ryan Lancaster. Now he's missing too. He was to be brought in for questioning about – about – well that undercover operation with Kalzo. "

"Yes Sir – I'm aware – well not of everything of course, but I know that Captain Dobey is working with the nineteenth on trying to locate Detective Lancaster. I know there's an APB out on him – but not on Starsky Sir?"

"No, you're correct. Starsky's status is suspended officer, just not being at his apartment and not contacting me is not grounds for an APB. He's not missing just non - contactable. But I'm sure you know me well enough by now to understand why I'm not doing too well at the moment. I'm sorry for leaving you holding the job – the reports, the call outs – not being here to instruct you. It's – well-"

"Sir – err – Hutch – please. I understand. It's not something you have to apologize for. But – well – I want to help. I can help."

Hutch squeezed his arm and smiled at him with that gentle sad look that had Riley had come to recognise in his Sergeant. That look that had Riley wanting to make it all better for his senior.

"Wished you could too Riley. But there's not much we can do until someone gets a lead on Ryan. I've followed up everywhere I can for Starsky, but it's obvious he has chosen to stay low. Besides – I have to remember, he's only been gone a very short while. Maybe tomorrow he'll call in. "

"That's right isn't it? You saw him last night so that's not long at all."

"I saw him this morning very early in fact – so yeah. It's just that Ryan is missing too….."

He looked into the lukewarm coffee, swilling it, thinking.

Riley looked down at his own coffee. He didn't know what else he could offer.

The desk phoned breaking the silence.

Riley picked up.

Hutch went back to the messages only half looking at them.

Riley was speaking to someone, looking at Hutch. He held the hand piece and covered it with one hand.

"Sir – there's someone on the line wants to talk to you. Only wants to speak to you. Says his name is Mickey."

Hutch held up his hands to Riley as if to block out the thought of the man on the phone. He groaned softly.

_Mickey…..not dirty Mickey. Some lousy bit of information he wants to peddle for a few bucks._

"Not now Riley. Tell him I'm busy."

Riley nodded understanding. He was after the last two weeks more comfortable in his duties as the incoming phone call vetting officer. As junior cop on duty it often fell to him to filter out all calls other officers weren't prepared to take.

The receiver back to his mouth he spoke again and listened more. He got back quickly to Hutch.

"Sir – I think you should take this call."

"Riley – just piss him off. I'm not in the mood for running down to some two-bit bar to listen to Mickey's shit ok?"

"I think you'll be interested in this one. He says it's about Starsky. That he has something that you'll definitely want to know. "

Leaning forward Hutch grabbed the phone almost roughly from Riley's hands.

"Mickey! Talk."

He clicked his fingers impatiently at Riley who took no time in handing him a pen and paper.

"Yeah – yeah….I know the place well. You're there now? You stay there…wait. Don't leave Mickey or I'll come looking for you. Give me…." Casting his eyes at the wall clock he calculated.

"Give me fifteen minutes. Yeah – yeah Mickey, I know...shit, you'll get your damn money if you give me what I need. Just be there and don't leave."

He was up, snatching jacket and keys.

At the door he seemed to remember and turned back to Riley who was following.

"I'm meeting this guy – he's an informant we use. I think it'd be better if I went alone."

"Sir?"

"Riley – alone. I'm going alone. Stay here in case there's any calls about Ryan. Don't go out on any calls by yourself - hand them to one of the other officers. Patch through to me if you need to."

"So I'll wait – for you to come back after the meeting? You'll be back after you meet this man?"

The hesitation told Riley what he suspected was already forming in the other man's mind.

"Yeah –sure…."

The door swung closed. Riley didn't think he'd be seeing his senior officer again in a while - maybe not even again tonight.

He moved over to the desk where Hutch had scrawled down the location of his meeting place with the informant.

The piece of paper was still sitting there, the swirl of Hutch's writing clear and bold. Riley pushed it to the side of the desk and tucked it securely under the blotter.

oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOooo

The heavy weight of his body as it settled on the side of the bed must have alerted him. The soft lamplight, which he had turned on quietly, illuminated the face he now knew so well.

Waiting. Watching.

The excitement was mounting in him, he could almost feel the anticipation pushing hard inside his chest, wanting its freedom, wanting to flow out of him and into his hands that were craving to touch the body lying beside him. It was a force inside his chest, a pulsing in his head and molten heat descending into his groin.

The body on the bed was moving now, squirming into a state of semi-awareness. Ryan was fixated by the sight of Starsky sprawled out beside him. He revelled in the opportunity to let his eyes roam leisurely over the compact muscular body and willed himself not to reach out and touch the dark chest hair revealed by the unbuttoned shirt. He noted the movements in Starsky's closed eyes and knew he was leaving behind the mantle of sleep. He felt his own pulse leap as Starsky's state of sleep lightened. When the deep blue eyes opened slowly, flickered about the room and finally came to alight on Ryan's face, the breath he had been holding rushed out of him. He thrilled to this moment - the moment when Starsky would comprehend his presence and his proximity. The moment when Starsky would fully comprehend the situation he was in - that he was Ryan's captive.

The sense of power and control forced more blood into his growing erection and he shifted on the bed now to accommodate its bulk.

The blue eyes began to focus, narrow - awareness chased away the the restful, relaxed features of the sleepy face and facial muscles tensed and hardened.

Ryan was ready for this moment. Ready for Starsky's comprehension, ready for his reaction.

The deep blue eyes flared and even without having contact with Starsky's body Ryan felt the automatic tensing of Starsky's arm and leg muscles and his preparedness to react with speed and agility.

Ryan moved his gun up higher, its visibility not obvious before. At the same time he moved his own body in close enough to press against the length of Starsky and leaned in to his face.

"Hello Starsk. I've been waiting patiently for you to wake up."

Starsky pulled himself up the bed to a sitting position and stared at the other man. He pushed his hand through his curls, disheveled from sleep. His expression was stone hard and full of hatred. Ryan searched his face for fear and avoidance but could find only rage and readiness for battle.

"That's good 'coz I've been waiting' for ya' to arrive. Got bored waitin', now I'm awake – ya' Motherfucker."

Ryan tipped his head on the side.

"You seem different Starsky. You're different tonight. "

The other man _was_ different. Ryan was looking at the face and the posture of the man that he had not seen in Starsky before. He had always been open, friendly, garrulous in his Academy days and then edgier, sharper but still prone to child like prankster type moods in his career as a detective. Then since Ryan had begun to make his mark on him Starsky had assumed the behavior of a beaten down man, defeated and victimized, self-recriminating and his own worst enemy.

But tonight in the soft light Ryan saw the changes and he felt them too in the hard tensing of Starsky's body. The rage was there now, and more than edgy or sharp, Starsky emanated danger and violence.

The victim in him was gone.

"Not different Ryan. Just so very tired of ya' sick head games. Sick of you Ryan. You perverted, crazy bastard."

Ryan contemplated the changes and then smiled. He welcomed the transformation. Starsky was not ready to back down and his blatant hostility challenged Ryan. With his gun steadily on his target Ryan knew he needed to take some defensive measures with this version of Starsky.

"Get up. Off the bed."

Starsky continued to sit, his arms draped casually over his jean-clad legs. He never took his narrowed eyes from Ryan's.

Ryan shoved the gun into his chest.

"I said... to get the fuck up off the bed Starsky. Over against the wall."

Starsky moved lazily and received a jolt from the gun again.

"Assume the position."

"So …you wanna play cops and robbers now Ryan? Maybe need to get a bit of practice with your collaring procedures. Haven't got the basics down yet hey? Shoulda' listened better in school instead of flashin' your dick around in the locker rooms - asshole."

Ryan didn't like the taunts and he didn't like the bravado from this Starsky.

He kept his weapon poised while he forcibly whirled the other man around to face the wall, pushing Starsky's face hard against its surface.

" Shut the fuck up Starsky. I like your pretty body, you know I do, but I don't have a problem with smashing your teeth down your throat if you don't keep your mouth closed."

He slapped the back of Starsky's head hard.

"The position Starsky. Arms up."

Ryan used his feet now to push his legs further apart. When Starsky didn't co-operate he kicked out roughly at each foot, slamming the feet into a wider stance.

"Move your legs apart wider."

"Of course - it didn't take long for ya' to get to this did it Ryan? Is this where you've gone wrong? No wonder you haven't mastered the arrest procedure. You're too busy feelin' up every perp with ya' slimy hands ya' creep!"

Ryan shoved him hard again and began the frisk. He started it with the air of conventional moves but then as his hands started to move over Starsky, he slowed his movements and pressed his hands harder, letting them come to rest on parts of Starsky's body for longer than necessary. He lingered around his lower waist region and then curved his hand around the tight buttock. Inside the thighs now he rubbed and patted and then slid lower to his lower legs where he spent less time.

Standing back up now he pressed his front in hard against Starsky's back, but used his cold gun to rub seductively along firm dark jaw line, brushing back the curls with its long barrel. His hands moved sinuously around to the front of his chest and slid under the soft shirt. Thumb and finger found one of Starsky's nipples and he brushed it lightly, squeezing it but only gently.

Remarkably he thought, the other man stood perfectly still and said nothing. He dropped his hand down from the chest region to land on the front of Starsky's crotch. There he left his hand for a long time – brushing across the tight jeans, rubbing hard and then finally cupping his crotch and squeezing.

"Nice to see you've got your jeans open for me already. Makes the search so much easier when you co-operate with the police. See?"

His hand pushed down into the undone waistband and the zipper of Starsky's fly was pushed lower when Ryan's hand found its way beneath the tight fabric.

Ryan's breath was increasing and he could feel the sweat cooling on his overheated body. His own crotch was already on fire and for a few seconds as his hand-made contact with Starsky's warm cock, his vision blurred and he swayed in semi delirium.

The momentary unsteadiness, the faint hint of dropped guard transmitted itself to Starsky's body.

Ryan had let his lust overtake his vigilance.

Starsky made his move.

He swung his whole body around, dropped his arms and lunged. Caught unawares Ryan staggered back but did not fall. Starsky brought his elbow up hard and the sound of Ryan's jaw cracking rewarded his efforts. As Ryan's big body went slack for a moment, his gun hand lost its grip and the sound of the metal clattering to the floor was loud in the spacious room. Starsky tracked the gun with his peripheral vision as it skidded away with their scuffling feet but then brought his attention immediately back to the slightly dazed man. He followed quickly with a fist to Ryan's shocked face, which had his head cracking back, and the first blood of the battle spraying.

"Told you Ryan – keep your fucking filthy hands off me…you wanna play then lets play!"

In a full body slam he shoved his whole body into Ryan and the two of them crashed heavily to the ground. The hard glassy tiles did nothing to cushion their fall and even through the heavy bulk of Ryan's body Starsky felt the bone jarring reverberation of their bodily collision with the ground.

Both were winded but Ryan, already disoriented from the first blows from Starsky was struggling. Starsky used the advantage to straddle himself firmly over his big frame, pushing his thighs in heavily to Ryan's' sides, pinning his lower torso while he brought his left hand up high and backhanded his face twice in quick succession. Ryan was groaning now and Starsky was laboring to get his breaths.

"YOU MO…..TH…..ER…..FUCK….ER! KILL YOU…..WANT….TO ….KILL YOU."

He heard his fist cracking down on the fleshy cheekbone beneath him and his knuckles burned with pain as he felt the impact and the reverberation up his whole arm and into his shoulder. On another strike he felt his knuckles split and his own blood mixed now with the blood from Ryan's cut eye and split cheekbone.

His body was a red-hot furnace, sparking with energy and fire that consumed him and screamed for release. The sounds of his own animal cries were in his ears mingled now with Ryan's grunts and groans.

Power and strength and agility were now the end products of weeks of inner pain and emotional turmoil and once unleashed he couldn't have stopped their violent exit from his body even if wanted to. His relentless attack on the man beneath him had taken him to another dimension. His fists and their blows were in a separate time and space to his own reality. Each blow and maneuver was like an emptying of an overfilled reservoir of hatred and angst from another time, another place. He was a ruthless machine in the now pulling reserves and motivations from the recent past. The damage he needed to bestow on the man beneath him was a surrealistic experience. His energies and stamina were akin to a sexual frenzy and he would have laughed at the analogy if it weren't so close to the truth. Until he reached his zenith, climbed over the top, he was a slave to his inner drives.

His fists were his swollen engorged manhood and the violent blows rained down on his victim were the ejaculation of his pent up fury.

_What a fuckin' joke - I could kill this man for what he has done to me sexually and physically and now I want to slam my fucking orgasmic rage into his face and body._

Finally, the fury was spent, his body flagged and crumpled. Torn, frantic breaths ripped though his chest as he tried to get some oxygen into his lungs. The sweat dripped from his forehead and ran into his eyes blurring his vision. He sensed too that tears were also blurring his vision. Somewhere during the fight the tears had started, he had no recollection of them till he felt them streaming down his hot face, lacing with cooling sweat.

The big dark man beneath him was bloody and ripped and now totally still – motionless and slack.

Starsky cried out with post climatic emotion and his shaking thighs and knees could no longer support his weary body. He let himself fall to the side, slumping down on the cold tiles, pulling himself away from Ryan's body, the smell of his blood, and finding a brief comfort in the coolness of the smooth tiles. His head and face lay heavily against their cool surface and he shook with muscle fatigue and spent anguish. The wetness on his face, tears and sweat made the cool surface slippery.

His physical body had been purged. The violent marathon had left him totally depleted. Mentally he was clearer headed than he had been in a long while. Something black and stifling had been shaken out of him. Clarity had replaced the murky despair that had clogged his consciousness for weeks.

He rolled onto his back slowly pulled by two opposing forces. Physical exhaustion and mental resurgence. He fought through the distraction of both of them and rolled over and up to his knees. There would be time later for self-introspection. The man lying beside him was a liability and he needed to finish what he'd started.

On his hands and knees now he began scouring the floor for Ryan's gun. Starsky's brutal attack had propelled them both from the original starting point near the wall and the room was huge and semi dark. He crawled toward the second lamp on the nearby side table. He needed more light to locate the gun. He would secure Ryan's gun before retrieving his own where it still lay buried in his overnight bag, loaded and waiting for him to use when and how he chose to - now that he was in the position of power.

Ironic that he had gone to all that trouble to secure himself a weapon when in the end he had no need for a weapon - his own hands were all that it took to bring this animal down. He had only to call upon the parts of himself that Ryan had pushed into dormancy. It was not lost on him that He could have finished what he'd begun - with no gun - just the core of dangerousness in him that had been tampered down by Ryan's sadism.

If he had been completely honest with himself at that point he had no real idea of what he would do once the weapons were in his hands.

Would he use the gun to finish what he'd started with his fists?

Why would he use the gun and incriminate himself? He had the opportunity to kill him with his own physical prowess - he could still do it.

Was he really contemplating killing this man?

With Ryan down, the kill would have to be done in cold blood. Is that what he wanted? Needed?

What would it achieve for him? Where would it leave him in life?

Trying to mentally map out where he heard the sound of Ryan's gun when it skidded across the floor he reached up on his haunches to turn the lamp on. As extra light filled the room he heard the sound and in that one second he cursed himself.

_So caught up in your own self- analysis of your inner demons that you missed it. You're not the only one in this room tonight with demons to unleash and your demons are far more tame than his._

He knew he had miscalculated and he knew he had underestimated strong human spirit. He had underestimated the irrepressible power of psychotic violence.

Again he had underestimated the sheer madness that was Ryan.

The pain was white-hot and excruciating.

He screamed as his body flexed up and away from the assault and gasped at the spreading agony.

The second kick was probably worse but his nerve endings were already electrified so the sensation was more dulled.

"You dare to try to fuck me over Starsky! I'm the …..only ….one who does….the fucking….you here ….me LOVER!"

Three times Ryan who was looming over him now, swaying and bleeding, had slammed his pointed boot into Starsky's still tender and healing, surgically repaired side. The strikes of Ryan's metal toe cap of his boot were ten times more agonizing than the plunging knife that had opened his flesh up in that same site, weeks ago now.

Starsky doubled over, bile filling his mouth, gagging his throat as he desperately tried to spit it out and clear his filled airway.

Never he thought had he felt such intense mind blowing pain.

Was he side ripped over again? Torn apart and ruptured by the savage blow of the metal tipped boot. He imagined skin splitting and muscles dividing, blood gushing freely - such was the degree of pain lancing through his side.

His stomach revolted again with the next wave of agony and he tried to clutch at his middle, as the vomit erupted from him – hot rancid liquid and thin, nothing solid in his stomach to release.

He was powerless to stop the plea and hated himself for the sound of the staggered whimpering words gagging through his bile filled mouth.

"No Please…..pl….ea…se….stop…not again…..please."

He thought he heard Ryan's sardonic laugh and as he fell to the side and lolled onto the floor like some broken puppet, he saw the mouth he so hated now, twisted and taunting above him.

His head was wrenched savagely from the floor, Ryan's fingers pulling hard at his thick curly hair, digging into his scalp.

"Like the pain Lover? Feel it burn? Told you….that's where I left my mark on you. My mark Starsky! Mine! I've marked you and now I control you. That scar means I can always control you. It means you're mine."

To reinforce it he brought his hand down to the scarred tissue now and squeezed it savagely. His wild eyes lit up at the pain-dazed response from Starsky who twisted and turned trying to distance himself from the cruel hands.

"You said we could play Starsk? You've had your game, you've had your turn. Well now its mine. I've been waiting a long time to have the game I really want with you…and now…"

He used his knee now to push into the wound while bringing both of his hands down to caress Starsky's white face. As the man beneath him cried out Ryan silenced his moans with his mouth. In the caricature of the gentlest lover, his lips brushed over Starsky's pain twisted mouth. The caressing hands left his face and wrapped slowly around Starsky's neck. He tightened his grip on the hard cords of Starsky's throat and continued to watch as the light went out of his loved one's eyes.

"….and now I'm finally going to get to play it with you."

oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooO OOooo

Mickey, let his unconditioned body slide down the roughened brick wall. There was no patrons around at the moment to see him and he badly needed to recover from the shake–up he had just endured.

His hand scrambled on the dirty floor, sticky with stale beer and stubbed out cigarettes. Feverishly he bundled up the scattered notes that had been flung with no regard for the money or him, at his feet.

His throat would be bruised badly tomorrow and he thought he might have a cut on the back of his head where the big blond had smashed him hard up against the wall near the juke box.

Next time he dealt with Detective Hutchinson he would be more careful to not be taken in by his deceptively soft voice and good looks. He never had trouble like that with him before – and in fact it was the other partner that always scared him more. This time however, Hutchinson was crazy.

Mickey had made a big mistake in hedging around with the information he had on Hutchinson's partner. Stupidly he tried to use his street informant tactics to screw the blond detective for as much as he could get out of him for Starsky's whereabouts. The negotiation of price had meant he had not been quick enough with the delivery of the information.

Stupid! He realised now that he could have just asked outright for the higher amount and Hutchinson probably would have paid him no questions. It was the fact that he had held back the information for more money, initially refusing to give him the address where Starsky had gone that had gotten him roughed up by the tall blond.

He touched his head gingerly and was not surprised to see blood on his finger tips.

His dirty, yellowed fingers stuffed the notes into his overcoat. In fact Hutchinson had paid him handsomely for the job but not before he first displayed his obvious displeasure at being delayed by Mickey's greed. The handsome face had contracted into rage and his hand had darted up to seize the scruff of Mickey's collar while he pressed closer to the older man's fear filled face. Mickey had pulled back and away, cringing but Hutchinson had shook him violently, twisting the collar of his coat till Mickey gagged and cracking his head against the rough brick wall.

"I told you the information was very important to me Mickey. Next time I ask you for information that is very important to me, you better make fucking sure you give it to me fast you little piece of shit. You've cost me time and next time you cost me time – it'll cost you more than a sore head. Now take your filthy money!"

He strode away with out a backward glance.

Moments like these and events like this, had Mickey seriously reconsidering his choice of life career.

Maybe he was getting too old for this game and maybe he was losing his edge on picking the winners and losers. After all weren't the Cops meant to be the good guys? The way Hutchinson had just roughed him up he was seriously doubting that there was any longer a divide between the good and the bad - on the streets it was all bad.

oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOooo

It had been well over two hours since Hutch had left to go and meet the informant.

Riley had driven out on one call by himself using a patrol car as Hutch had taken his vehicle that they usually cruised in. If you could call the poor excuse of Hutch's own car as a vehicle Riley had smiled to himself as he came back into he squad room and found his supervising Sergeant still not returned. It had been a minor incident and he had easily dealt with it himself though he knew that Dobey wouldn't be pleased if he discovered that his Rookie was running around the streets without a senior partner.

But Riley didn't want to call attention to Hutch's absence. He knew that Hutch was again acting independently and unilaterally in trying to locate his partner….and doing it using departmental time and resources. If the other guys in the squad room were looking at him a little curiously when he re-entered the room they chose to say nothing.

He figured they all knew the score with Hutch and there was a tacit agreement to say nothing about how other officers chose to run their lives if it concerned the welfare of fellow officers. They all knew Starsky was off the radar and that Hutch was looking for him. No-one was going to say Jack about it to the brass. No-one was going to blow the whistle on his extra-curricular activities if it concerned one of their own.

Riley might be new to this squad room, to this brotherhood, but he was learning fast.

Riley's conclusions on the matter were confirmed when one of the other more senior patrol officers called out to him from across the room.

"Hey kid? Next time you get a call out ask one of us to tag along. No skin off our noses. Dobey'll have your hide and Hutchinson's if he knew you were rollin' alone. Looks like Hutchinson has been busy so…just grab one of next time ok? Can't have a Rookie hitting the streets by himself. Pretty sure Hutchinson would expect you to stay put."

"Sure thing Reynolds…and ah…thanks. It was a minor thing anyway – I managed it fine."

The other man just grunted and returned to his paperwork.

Riley looked at the clock.

Hutch was not coming back. It was obvious.

His eyes fell on the pad again. The pad with the address, the meeting place with that informant, Mickey.

Fifteen minutes later Riley's frustration levels were rising and his mind was in overdrive.

_Hutch is my partner. I'm meant to be backing him up like Starsky would be if he was here. That is my job. He's left me out of this because he considers that I'm not part of any of this. But I am. _

Riley knew and understood a hell of a lot more about what was going on behind the scenes in Hutch's life than Hutch probably gave him credit for. He had eyes and ears and he liked to think too, the developing instincts of a detective. He'd already learned so much from just being with Hutch on the streets and around the station. Listening to him, watching his moves, taking in his steady careful and measured control. Everyone thought that Starsky and Hutch were the two of the best undercover detectives and Riley knew now why their reputation was so strong. He used to hear about them when he was in the Communication Room, right from when he first hit Parker after the Academy. Now here he was, by a stroke of luck, under the direct supervision of Hutchinson. His confidence had grown rapidly since working alongside him and his self-esteem had been lifted by the Hutch's steady quiet acceptance of him and his work.

The fact that Hutch seemed to have singled him out, accepted him, taken him under his wing was a mystery to him. He knew enough about him to realise that he wasn't readily accepting of many people. In fact everyone else told him that Starsky was the easier going of the two.

From the very first he had watched the drama unfold with the Kalzo case.

He had known from those first days in the Communication Room watching Hutch, watching the saga unfold with Ryan and Starsky and how it was all handled by Captain Dobson and Dobey – how Hutch felt about how it was all handled. Riley knew.

Ryan was bad – a bad cop and a bad human.

He knew that Starsky did not appreciate him being assigned to Hutch, but deep down he was also intuitive enough to know that Starsky's antagonism toward him was symptomatic of his own pain at what had happened since the Kalzo case. He coud understand why Starsky resented him and although it hurt, he needed to rise above it and think logically about the whole situation.

Obviously Hutch was fearful that Ryan had gone looking for Starsky. It was also more than obvious that tonight Hutch had gone looking for Starsky now that he had a lead finally through Mickey.

Ok - so Starsky didn't like him and he owed nothing to him given the way he had felt treated by him. But Hutch's allegiances were with Starsky. That was good enough for him because his allegiances were to Hutch.

He wanted to have Hutch's back – all the way – like a strong dependable partner. He knew that Starsky would want to think that he was doing his best by Hutch – in his absence. Respect from Starsky was something he coveted. He hoped that he was already a fair way along earning Hutch's.

He was a Rookie. Just a Rookie, green and inexperienced. But he was also smart and he knew that what he lacked in experience he might make up somewhat for by using his head.

It was all a risk – but then that's what he was here to do – to learn how to play the streets with all of its inherent risks and come out winning for the good guys.

The clock moved along a few more minutes. He looked at Reynolds who would no doubt be watching him now.

He stood up and stretched and grabbed the keys to the black and white he still had in his possession. The piece of paper from the notepad was tucked in his pocket. He already knew the address by heart anyway, but kept the note with him.

With an exaggerated stretch he conjured up a bored look on his face.

"Hey nothing much happening here right now so I might take the opportunity to grab something to eat in case in gets busier later. You guys want anything? I'm going to head down to the food strip and pick up some chilli or something."

A few heads looked semi interested and then shook.

"Nah…"

"No thanks Riley, I'm right too"

Just as well, he thought , because if the lead I'm about to follow through on is solid, I won't be bringing any food back for anyone.

He tried to walk past them with what he hoped was a nonchalant air.


	10. Chapter 10

**Then Neither Can He**

**Chapter 10**

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The property wasn't easy to find in the looming dark tucked as it was down a private laneway from the main coast road. He'd wasted time re-tracing his steps having driven too far up the coast and taking a wrong turn at least two times before he finally lucked out and found the correct exit.

The sound of his own vitriol cursing himself in every filthy name for not being able to locate the exit road had his head throbbing.

The time wasted in getting it right had negated the speed with which he had eaten up the coastal road miles since gunning his beaten car out of the city as soon as he had extracted the information from that dumbfucker weasel Mickey.

Now for more than ten minutes he'd been driving in circles, cursing and slamming at the car's interior.

By the time he let his car roll slowly down the incline, cutting the engine to kill the noise and dimming his lights down to low, his nerves were beyond frayed. Given the extent of his sleep deprivation he should have been totally exhausted, but by contrast he was wired and hyper-alert, probably more than was healthy.

What in hell was Starsky doing out here in this isolated place and by the looks of it, such an exclusive hide-away? How long had been planning this escapade? How long did he intend to remain here without contacting him?

As his beaten up car rolled to a final stop and was close enough now to make out the property's number on the solid concrete fence he remained worried that Mickey had sent him on a wild goose chase. None of this made sense.

Starsky was more likely to be holed up in some beach shack further up the coast than here in this modern monolith. But just then glint of white caught his eye and now in the moonlight he caught the white stripe of the Torino.

Thank God – he_ was_ here! And there was no sign of any other car…. Thank Christ Ryan was not really part of the whole terrible nightmare he had been having since Starsk had taken off this morning.

If he was smart and had gotten wind to what was happening with Dobson and Dobey down at Parker then he too had gone underground. His disappearance would be for different reasons to Starsky's, but Hutch believed it was likely that he too had buried himself.

_Don't worry Ryan – it's only a matter of time before you'll get your ass hauled before the IA. Can't stay low forever._

As his feet scrunched down on the graveled driveway he was already rehearsing in his head how he and Starsky would deal with the aftermath of his decision to go to Dobey about Ryan. Maybe here – away from the reminder of work and what had happened they might find it easier to talk more calmly about the whole convoluted situation.

He walked further into the wide driveway and quickly surveyed the lay of the big house. His eyes scanned to the right of the property where some thicker trees provided privacy to the side of the house where it looked like a pool and entertainment area might be located.

There was no light on near the huge modern front door but he could see well enough to make out the steps. The noise of the strong ocean wind buffeting the trees and brought his attention back to the side of the house – and just as he neared the front door he stopped dead.

The heavy blanket of trees had disguised it and in his first sweep over he had not been able to discern its dark form. His eyes better adjusted to the gloom now, the outline was clear.

_Oh Shit No!... Starsky!_

A dark late model car was parked behind the copse of trees – no doubt purposely to obscure its presence.

The nightmare was real after all. Ryan _had_ found Starsky.

oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOooo

The two cold beers he had sunk in quick succession had only just taken the edge off his thirst and his throbbing face.

It had taken him considerable time to pull Starsky up from the floor and position him on the bed while he was still in his own dazed condition. Still dizzy and woozy from the blows to his face and the fall to the floor the effort in hauling the muscular man up and onto the bed had him reeling in pain. Starsky had really done a number on him before he'd managed to bring him down by slamming his boot into his knife wound. The surgical wound was the most vulnerable part of Starsky's body and his best chance to get back on top of the situation before Starsky got his hands of the gun.

_Jesus, he'd come so close to losing the upper hand. Where had that strength in Starsky come from. Where was that hollowed out man from weeks ago?_

This time the other man was more than an equal adversary and the power that Starsky had been unleashed on him had left him shocked. The man that had given him this massive beating was not the same man he had watched struggling and shaking on the bed when he had last done battle with him. The day when Starsky had pulled the gun on him and brought a screaming halt to his pleasures.

He still remembered the fire that had been pulsing in his cock that day and the anger at having his plans for the other man thrawted.

Starsky owed him and tonight there would be no stopping him – even though the damage to his own body was considerable. Once his sexual appetite was aroused he knew the pain in his body would be erased. Lust would fuel him, lust would power him and when he married it with the simmering rage inside of him now, he would be unstoppable.

When Starsky had eventually passed out from having his airway compressed for long enough, Ryan had only allowed himself a minute or two to try to regroup before getting to work quickly. He couldn't afford to waste anytime in putting his plan into action and now that he was hurt himself it was going to be all the more difficult to execute.

He finally had him on the bed and was reaching for his cuffs to secure his arms. He had picked his gun up again as he stood to dig into his back pocket for the cuffs. The gun had finally turned up – he found it where it had slid beneath the bedroom couch.

Once he had the cuffs in place and Starsky safely secured he knew that he needed to take care of himself as he was feeling increasingly woozy and more light headed from his physical efforts with the body beneath him.

As he unclipped the cuffs he was once again alarmed to see the blue eyes fixated on him. There was an indomitable force raging through Starsky tonight that was not easy to extinguish.

Once more the curly haired cop opposed him as he brought his still free arm to grab onto Ryan's forearm with a death grip.

There was a moment of panic for Ryan. His vision was blurring and the faintness was crowding in on him and at any moment he could lose the upper hand with Starsky again. He needed immediate control.

The heavy butt of his gun provided that control. As he could feel himself slipping away he raised the gun and brought it crashing down into the side of the dark curly head. Metal on bone and flesh was such a distinctive sound Ryan thought and it usually brought pronounced results. The effect of the impact was immediate and the head lolled, Starsky's whole body totally slack.

Ryan snapped on the cuffs, securing the Starsky's arms above his head, his wrists firmly attached to the bed head rail.

He had only a moment to wonder whether he might have been too enthusiastic with his gun butt as blood was oozing freely from the gash on the side of the other man's head – before his own blood loss and weakness had him staggering away to find some fluid for his own depleted system. With effort he pushed away from the bed.

"I'll be back soon Lover. Just need to get ready for you. Want to be at my best for you."

The words spoken out loud bounced back in the cavernous room and there sexual implication had his now dampened libido once more filling his veins.

He made his way into the dimly lit kitchen but left the lights off, guided only by the dim light from the bedroom where his captive lay waiting for him.

In the fridge he found some beers and taking two of them he made it to the couch before sinking down low and holding the coolness of them to his burning cheekbone. Twisting the cap on one of them he swallowed greedily at the cold froth and winced at the pain whistling through is teeth, the movement of his jaw reminding him of the plowing fists that had assaulted his lower face. At least now the dizziness was passing. He was pleased to have left his lover alone on the bed but God he needed a bit of time. The fear that he might pass out again now was passing.

After another few minutes of catching his jagged breath he returned to the kitchen and turned the water on full. Snatching a clean cloth he saturated it and began gently wiping at the drying blood on his cheek and eye. Touch told him the extent of the cuts and he preferred not to look in a mirror to evaluate the true extent of the damage.

The beer was bringing back some strength to his shaking limbs and the cold water had revived his energy.

How had he let Starsky get the better of him? He needed to keep his eye on the game here, as this was the opportunity he had been waiting for – finally alone with him and uncaring of what he did or the consequences of what he did. But he could not allow Starsky to take him again.

Cupping fresh cold running water and dousing gently at his tender cuts he straightened – more renewed in vigor but still lanced through with sharp pain. With the darkened room behind him he caught his dim reflection in the window as he leaned heavily into the counter for support.

He straightened and tensed. His eyes narrowed.

In the silence and stillness of the room where the only sounds he had heard before were his own stifled groans and painful breaths, he was alerted to a new sound. Footfalls, crunching gravel, soft and distant but definitely near – outside the house.

Reflexes had him shifting deftly to the side of the window away from center stage. Despite the jarring of his tortured muscles he flattened himself with agility against the wall and peered out of the window space he had just vacated. Although the room he was standing in was only very dimly backlit he couldn't risk being by whoever was outside in the driveway.

He strained his ears to listen and scanned the darkened exterior for anything moving.

Nothing. Silence. No movement.

The sounds on the gravel had been coming from near the front door but now all was quiet. Perfectly still he waited but there was still nothing else to be heard. Then when he was just about to pull away from his post and return to the bedroom he saw the shape. Moving cautiously and with a style and grace of a seasoned cop he knew who the shape was even before he was able to distinguish the overly large tell tale silhouette of the Magnum.

Starsky's ever faithful and reliable partner had just showed up to crash the party.

Ryan's bodily pain from the injuries inflicted on him by Starsky would just need to be sublimated. This new arrival meant even more work, physical and mental before he could begin with his long awaited games.

Despite the added complication of this unforeseen intrusion, a surge of excitement also leapt in him. The whole experience had just been magnified. There would be a need to be careful and disciplined, and until Hutchinson was safely restrained, he would again need to defer his gratification. But then – he shivered – adrenalin pouring into his veins at the imminent conquest – the reward for his patience and efforts would be worth that discipline.

Not only would he get to fuck Starsky stupid but also his prowess and skills would be on full display to a highly discerning audience of one. The most prized audience of all - Starsky's loving partner.

Ryan would make sure that he would provide Hutchinson with a performance of a lifetime.

oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooO OOooo

_What the hell is it with me today anyway? Did I wake up this morning with some freakin' neon sign on my forehead saying' _" _Are you a Cop? Need resources, need information? Today we have the Weasel Special – Mickey. Guaranteed to deliver!"_

He'd not long recovered from Hutchinson's little work over on him and was still shaking even after he'd been slouched warily over the bar table putting away a few well earned drinks to settle his rattled nerves. He'd had to go into the john and clean up his head a bit first before he felt stable enough on his feet and then found his way back to his usual post at the low bar table. Digging out some of the new notes from his two well-paid business transactions that day, he'd waved the barmaid over for a large beer.

Every time the doorbell jangled he looked up with apprehension in case it might herald in the return of Hutchinson – or Starsky for that matter – either one was enough to raise his blood pressure right about now.

Hopefully Starsky had found the house and Hutchinson had found him or he feared for his few remaining teeth or worse - if Hutchinson's temper was any indication of what could befall him.

Just as he was finally beginning to relax into his brews and the fear of the big blond was leaving him, he heard his name spoken at the bar.

Looking up he saw a young man in plain clothes but with a decidedly cop look to him, asking the barman about his whereabouts.

Who the hell was this kid? Never seen him – or had he? Sort of looked familiar but Mickey couldn't place him.

The kid was coming toward him so he guessed he'd find out soon enough who he was.

The undercover Rookie was wanting Mickey's co-operation – requesting it "please"– so he stated, as he was Detective Hutchinson' s junior patrol trainee and was following up on his senior's movements.

Initially Mickey had cringed at the connection that the kid had with Hutchinson and remembering now that this was in fact his "new" partner or offsider, he at first baulked at talking to him.

Had Hutchinson sent him to cause him more problems?

No it seemed – he was acting independently and using the terminology of the street business dealings made it clear that he "would make it worth" Mickey's while to tell him where Hutchinson might have gone? He had "given him information of Detective Starsky" hadn't he? Seemed this young sidekick knew it all.

Mickey was just about to start bullshitting the kid – finally today a contact with a client that didn't make him feel like an intimidated piece of worthless shit. How hard would it be to pull one on this green Rookie?

Sensing that he was about to make some more generous and easy money he showed the kid his dirty teeth and started his spiel about "well that depends on what you call worthwhile"….

He was a junior Rookie after all and street rats like him could run rings around this stupid gullible kid.

Mickey soon felt the dismay. This wasn't going to be as easy as he thought. Junior boy here had been to the Hutchinson school of intimidation.

The young offsider seemed to have been modeling his own act on his mentor because suddenly he didn't seem so boyishly gullible or stupid. It turned out he had his own idea of what constituted a "worthwhile" transaction of information.

"Oh sorry Mickey – you appear to have misunderstood. You see, its not that I'm going to pay you. No. I'm sure you've already been paid for your information and time today already. Haven't you? No, you see – my senior officer – Sergeant Hutchinson, he's already seen you tonight hasn't he? Yes, well, I'm his partner right now and I know he'll most definitely be expecting me to follow him up on where he's gone. I just got held up at the station. Can't get onto him now and well he told me to come see you if there was any problems. Well see – there are. I can't contact him. So – I'm here – like he asked me to be. To get information from you. "

Mickey was pulling back and looking more and more uncertain.

"I need the information fifteen minutes ago Mickey – or Detective Hutchinson will be getting very impatient. If I have to go back to the station and wait for him to call in and find out that I couldn't follow him because you held back on the facts – jeez – well – I don't know what he'll do to me – let alone you…... He gets really angry really quickly lately. Perhaps you noticed." Riley looked pointedly at the dried blood on Mickey's tufts of hair as he stood looking down at him.

Mickey decided it was just not going to be worth his while risking another round with Starsky's other half. Smart ass kid here had him good.

A little later he watched the young cop walk out of the dingy bar with a back ramrod straight and a look of fierce determination on his youthful features. Was it his imagination of did the kid look older than when he came in? Was it his imagination of did the kid have an uncanny resemblance to his supervisor Hutchinson – something like a version of how Hutchinson might have looked ten fifteen years earlier?

All Mickey knew for sure is that it sure _wasn't_ his imagination that his pockets were no heavier than before he talked to the young cop and he had just divested himself of precious information for which he would have anticipated good payment.

Perhaps he was really losing his nerve. Somehow he managed to get money out of two street savvy hard nosed Detectives with a rep for being heavy handed and yet he had handed this smart aleck what he wanted on a platter with nothing but a broad white smile for his reward.

oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOooo

Hutch pulled himself up and over the balcony railing. The bedroom was in total darkness – well he assumed it was the bedroom, with its wide sliding door opening onto the ocean-facing balcony. When he'd first arrived he thought there had been some dim lights coming from somewhere inside the house but now all was shrouded in blackness.

Testing all the accessible doors and windows he realized that this was his only chance to get into the house without causing a commotion. The pounding of the waves were so loud that he could only hope the background sound blocked out his stealthy ascent and sidelong movement along the balcony.

He used all of his concentration to dampen down his fears and rising anxiety. Faced three options - remaining outside, forcing a rampaging entry with gun blazing or going in cold to a darkened house where whoever was inside had the upper hand – he chose the latter course.

Visibility would be poor for both parties but with care he might stand a chance of entering the scene with enough defensive agility to take Ryan by surprise. Of course the whole time he was thinking these things he was not allowing himself to face any other scenarios that might be awaiting him once he made entry to the house.

Were they both actually here? Was Starsky Ok? Injured, hurt…dead? No No NO…..why would he be dead? Ryan wants to taunt and hurt not kill.

But what if Starsky had fought back and there had been a fatal struggle?

Why was there no noise? No sound?

As he so very slowly rounded the open door with his arms outstretched and his gun arm out and ready, trigger cocked, trigger finger steady and prepared – he expected the worse.

He was just inside the doorway now and trying desperately to make his eyes provide some sensory feedback that would make some sense to his brain.

Dark shapes and shadows and then the click.

His finger twitched and readied and he instinctively lowered his body. But it wasn't the click of a trigger readying. It was a switch. Light flooded the room – and as the momentary brightness changed as his pupils adjusted – muted light from a bedside lamp bathed the room. The light fell across the wide expanse of the king-size bed, before he followed its soft trail as it danced across the body lying on the bed.

Starsky!

His arms were pulled up roughly and high above his head and secured with metal cuffs to the bed head. His dark thick curls obscured his face but Hutch could tell by the way the head was lolling to the side Starsky was not conscious. He was clothed but his shirt was open and his jeans undone falling away from his hips, low enough that his pubes were visible. He was barefooted. The light was not good enough for him to discern much about whether he was injured or wounded.

Hutch's eyes fixated on his partner while his body fixated in time and place. Only a second he stood there caught by the dramatic scene but it felt like minutes – agonizing minutes where he stood transfixed and suspended. He was a hovering spectre over a theatrical centerpiece. Starsky and the ghoulish faced man, bloodied and battered sitting above him, one hand on the bedside lamp that he had just snapped on and the other on his gun which he held wedged under Starsky's firm chin. At Hutch's paralyzed stance he removed his hand from the lamp and brought it down to Starsky's chest where he stroked along its bare front, seductively, slowly- all the while looking at the man who had just entered the room.

"Well you've found us Hutchinson. Starsky said nothing about your plans to drop in, but well then he has been fairly reticent in the last half hour. In fact he has been positively non-communicative since I put him to bed. Maybe now you're here he might perk up a bit. I hope so as I have lots of things planned for him tonight and he needs to be awake to enjoy them."

Hutch's fear levels rocketed but he was determined not to show Ryan even a small degree of what he was really feeling.

"How did you know he was here? Who told you?"

The dirty whiskered face of Mickey floated in front of Hutch's eyes. Mickey was dead meat.

"I am a cop too Hutchinson. Maybe - just maybe, I am a little more intuitive than you are at the moment about your partner. It wasn't hard – I just followed him when I knew you had fingered me to Dobson – well suspected you had. You did didn't you? Went to Dobey with all of this?"

The two men were still facing each other off with their guns.

"I'm not here to talk about Dobson or Dobey. Or the mess you've created for yourself. It can be mitigated. Just take the gun away from Starsky and put it on the floor and kick it over to me. Hands on your head and step away from the bed."

Ryan laughed and his stroking hand on Starsky's dark chest moved lower to trace along the open waistband of his jeans.

"Now why would I do that? I've taken so much trouble to get him all ready in bed here. See?"

He turned his head to the side slightly, turning it into the light of the lamp, the shadows moving away from the contours of his face to show more clearly the evident damage to his features.

_Shit his face was pulped up. _

The strong desire to verbally applaud Starsky's physical handiwork on Ryan was bitten back. Something alerted him now to a shift in this big beaten up man. At the last moment the sarcastic commentary on what his partner had done to Ryan died in his mouth. The position his partner was in, laying unconscious at the mercy of this monster was just too precarious.

_Hold it Hutch. Don't do it…don't push this sickfuck. Not now while Starsk is like this. Don't give him any reason to hurt him anymore._

Hutch brought his attention back to Ryan's words.

"We even had a lover's fight and Starsky got just a bit too heavy handed with me. So I'm not about to leave him now, not when I've taken so long to get him all settled. I was just trying to wake him up when you showed up. I can hardly wait to start what I 've been waiting for."

His hand dipped lower now and pushed down into the open zip of the jean's opening.

"Get your filthy fucking hands off him. Get away from him you pathetic pervert."

As soon as the untamed words erupted he checked himself. How was he meant to stay silent? But he needed to defuse this animal not enrage him.

"Hutch I think it is you who needs to put down your gun. I'm so tired of hearing you tell me, warn me, and threaten me not to touch your precious Starsky. It's just not doing it for me anymore. I came here tonight to finally finish what I've started and always wanted. It doesn't matter to me now what happens – I'm here with Starsky. You can't stop me – most of all tonight – you won't stop me. I'm the one who is giving orders here tonight."

He jabbed his gun momentarily harder into Starsky's neck to reinforce his position.

"Bend down, put your gun on the floor or I will start by shooting Starsky's ankle and then - I'll move up to his kneecap. You know how excruciating a blown out kneecap is Hutchinson? I'm sure you do…we've all seen it in our day haven't we? You want your dearest friend here to have no knee? Put the magnum down on the floor Hutchinson. Move back a few spaces to that chair and sit down. I'll give you to five."

The sickness in Ryan's eyes, even in the mellow light was enough to have Hutch obeying the direction without a hesitation. He bent slowly and placed the big gun carefully and then stepped back a few steps.

"Why Ryan? Why do you want to hurt Starsky? I don't understand what is driving you to do this – these things to him. Is this sexual attraction, love, adulation? Just what the fuck is this thing you have for him? If you truly love him then why are you inflicting so much pain on him?"

" Shut the Fuck Up NOW! Get in that chair Hutchinson and don't ask anymore questions. This is between Starsky and me. You've tried to make this whole thing between Starsky, you and me. I don't want you in the picture Hutchinson. I never have. He is all I've wanted since I met him at the Academy and you tried to take him from me. Perhaps if you had just kept your face out of this Starsky wouldn't be here like he is now. But its too late. You've fucked up everything between the two of us. You're the one who has hurt Starsky - by trying to take him from me. "

_Oh My God! Oh My God. This man is sick, sick. Who is this man who has paraded as a fellow officer for all of these years?_

Could he try reason with him. Rationale? Could he possibly talk him down from this insane reality he had created for himself?

"How I react to what you are doing to Starsky has no bearing on how he feels toward you Ryan. Starsky is his own man – maybe you need to understand and accept that he is not interested in you on a personal level. That he never has been, not now and not ever. Hurting him, forcing him will not change that. Is that what you want? To get love by force? By inflicting pain? "

It was now apparent, frighteningly apparent that Ryan was slipping away into his own sick world. Hutch could feel it, see it, hear it. Somewhere in the past weeks this man had gone from being a functioning person, a competentent cop to a man on the brink of insanity.

It was more than just wanting Starsky for sexual gratification. Starsky had become part of Ryan's mentally skewed world.

"Just shut your fucking mouth Hutchinson. I have no wish to talk to you about how I feel. You have no understanding. Sit down now. I have the gun on Starsky's neck but when I ask you to do what I want, do it quickly otherwise I will take out his left ankle. Are we clear?"

Fear bubbled up in Hutch's throat, the sheer gravity of the predicament that he and has partner were now in frighteningly obvious. Ryan's sadistic threats toward Starsky were worse than any of the bad dreams or premonitions Hutch had been plagued with since Ryan had made his malevolent presence first felt all those weeks ago.

"Yes I'm clear Ryan. I understand. Just keep calm Ryan. You don't need to hurt him."

"Good. Now take out your cuffs – I know you have them on you. Cuff your hands behind your back. I know you can do that one – we've all practiced it enough over the years haven't we? Do it now."

With no hesitation Hutch did as he was instructed.

The tactics of the game had just changed dramatically. There was no way now that he could hope to overpower or out manoeuvre Ryan physically while he was restrained and Ryan held Starsky at gunpoint.

His aim now – his entire goal was to keep Starsky alive and as unscathed as possible. He still didn't know what injuries he might have already.

"Good. Now stay seated."

Ryan stood and moved in quickly to scoot his foot forward and scrape the magnum toward him where it lay on the floor.

He bent and retrieved it and took it back to where he had been sitting on the edge of the bed. With one hand he emptied out the cartridges letting them fall onto the bed. Gathering the loose cartridges up he pushed them into the bedside drawer and kicked the gun under the bed.

"Now that's a hell of a lot more comfortable everyone isn't it? No unexpected surprises to disturb what I have planned for your buddy here. "

"Ryan I need to see Starsky – I need to see my partner."

Ryan let out a demonic chuckle.

"Well how close do you need to be Hutchinson? He's just here on the bed, right across the room from you."

"But I can't see if he is alright? Why isn't he rousing? Just let me come closer to look at him and then I…"

"Then you'll what? You can come and look at your beloved Starsky, but whatever you see you can't do anything about it. I'm finishing what I started along time ago with him tonight. You'll have front row seat. I'll give you that much. But there's nothing you can say or do that will stop me."

He seemed to think for a moment and then began to consider Hutch's request.

"Alright – I'll let you come and stand by him – feast your eyes or whatever you need to do – then go back to your chair and remain there. I will cuff you to the chair once you've done this. Also I have a rule. Say nothing to him – not a word, not a single word. There's to be no communication between the two of you. If you try to talk to him I will punish him. He will feel it, not you - but then knowing how you two feel about each other, it's probably the same thing isn't it?"

How true were those words Hutch thought sadly. Ryan had worked them out and his very presence here was providing him with even greater leverage to extract enjoyment out of the situation.

"Alright then – no talking I get it. Just let me see if he is Ok. That's all I want."

"I'll tolerate this because I'll enjoy watching the drama of the two of you play out – such devotion! You always want to make it better, safer, for each other. Well this time you can't …just remember that… tonight Starsky's mine and you've arrived for the show. You can stay but you fucking better behave yourself or your partner will suffer. You hear me Hutchinson?"

Ryan's last words barely made it past the sneering twisted lips – frenzy and madness sparking in his black eyes.

Hutch wanted to take the already battered face and do things to it that would leave it totally unrecognizable as Detective Sergeant Ryan Lancaster. But he wouldn't move to touch him now - the threat to Starsky was too great.

As it was he was alarmed at the rapidly deteriorating level of Ryan's hold on sanity. Even the wrong word now could have him spiralling further into his own dark world – with the biggest fear being that he would try to take Starsky with him. Somewhere along the continuum of his mental functioning where he had moved further and further away from the point of normality, Ryan had chosen Starsky as the object of his deluded sexual obsession.

As Ryan gestured for him to come closer to the bed he tried to keep the man's eyes on him and off his partner. Even the dark eyes sliding over his partner's exposed body had Hutch sick in his guts. He wanted no part of this vile creature to touch Starsky.

With his gun pressed hard against Starsky's throat Ryan coaxingly taunted the blond man to his side.

"Come – look down at your friend. This is the last time you will see him as yours. Once I've finished with him tonight he'll always be mine."


	11. Chapter 11

**Then Neither Can He**

**Chapter 11**

**Warning: This chapter contains explicit depiction of non-consensual male rape and sexual violence. Do not read further if this subject matter or content offends or upsets you or you are not of appropriate age.**

Hutch stood above him and looked down. Being so close now, so close that he could smell the familiar smell of his friend, the enormity of their predicament hit him.

_Don't speak, don't speak. Don't call out or touch him. If you make a sound or try to touch he will hurt him more. Look, just look. Just let him know that you are here with him._

Had they ever been in such a hideous situation as this before? If they had he couldn't bring it to mind now. When recounting traumatic moments in life this one surely had to be up there with the worst. In his and Starsky's career as undercover cops there had been so many lowlights that singling out the ultimate one was not easy.

But the terrible poignancy of this still frame – three men captured in the lamplight, each a part of an ugly, frightening melodrama would forever be in Hutch's mind as a graphic memory of the very worst he had ever felt.

Looking down now at his stricken helpless partner, with himself standing there as a stricken helpless observer was hard enough to handle. But compounding his anguish was the man who waited to show them both that they had not even begun to understand what real fear and helplessness could be. Yes, Hutch conceded, this one single point in time was the lowest ebb of his life. As he looked upon Starsky he felt every negative emotion shuddering through him. There was the bite of terror, hopelessness, hatred and vengeful violence. Most strongly he recognized the overwhelming sadness that this whole sordid relationship this deranged man had shared with Starsky had brought them all to this final shocking scene.

The unresponsive body of his partner was close to him but had never felt so far away. With his arms useless, cuffed behind his back and Ryan refusing to allow him to say anything to Starsky, he could only use his eyes to touch his friend. He did that now, taking in the damage done to him in the time that it had taken him to follow him here and find that as he had feared, Ryan had found him first.

Silently he choked back the anger at the violence the Ryan had yet again wreaked upon Starsky's physical body. Hutch carefully logged each of his partner's injuries. His skills as a cop who had seen it all over the years, assessed the extent of the physical damage. If he could have he would have looked away for unlike other times he did not know what or when he could do anything about the trauma he was cataloguing on his partner's body. The cop in him took it all in, objectively quantifying, qualifying levels and degrees. The friend in him was pitifully overwhelmed by it all, subjectively measuring how little he could do to lessen Starsky's suffering.

The pillow showed fresh blood oozing from a head wound – probably accounting for his unconsciousness – blunt object injury? Gun butt? Most likely.

His throat showed fresh bruises, vivid, extensive, deep. Strangulation? Choking?

Hutch's eyes moved lower to the open shirt and the exposed chest and then he saw it – Starsky's flank. Ryan had again ravaged the surgical wound, which had still been healing. This time the wound was a mess. Contusions, vibrant hematoma just under the skin and swelling all made Hutch aware that there was probably substantial internal injury to the whole area. He could not even imagine the pain associated with the damage and behind his back he felt his cuffed hands flexing in that telltale need to lash out.

_What the fuck had Ryan used to pummel that area?_ Hutch didn't even want to know because if he did he would want to use the weapon of assault on Ryan's face right at this very moment.

How long he looked down at Starsky he didn't know. The act of looking at his friend had warring emotions coursing through him and he was pulled between not wanting to take his eyes off him as it was the only connection he had with him and the desperate need to do something about this deadlock they were both stuck in.

The words of abuse he wanted to hurl and spit at Ryan were clogging up his throat and burning up his gut. Blood pooled in his mouth as he bit down on the words, terrified that his tongue would betray him and the filth he wanted to utter would erupt, spewing all over the parody of a man who sat before him, watching him, smiling.

_The sick fuck._ _Forcing me to remain silent when he knows how much I want to yell and scream at him. When he knows how much I need to reassure Starsky even though he can't hear me. He's enjoying my silent agony._

_Don't speak, don't talk. He'll hurt Starsky more. Hold it Hutch. Swallow it. Don't look at him, don't let him see your pain and your helplessness. He'll use it against us both._

More than the words of pure hatred that he held back for Ryan however, the pain of holding back other utterances was even harder.

"_Oh Starsk. I'm here buddy. I'm here. No matter what happens, I'm here beside you, with you. In the end, whatever this evil motherfucker does, that is all that matters. He can't take that away. He can't take away that we are always here for each other. That is our strength"._

Starsky's extended bout of unconsciousness had him worried.

_Christ how bad is the head injury?_

Again, the warring of emotions overloaded his brain.

The need to look into Starsky's eyes and at least have him know that he was here was so strong he almost willed him to wake. But then for Starsky to wake and see the fear in his own eyes and to know that there was nothing he could do while Ryan had them in this situation, kept Hutch wishing for Starsky to stay out of it. At least in oblivion there was peace.

Ryan was speaking now. His deep baritone now a representation of all that was bad in human mankind. Hutch thought he had never hated a voice so much.

"I can see it all Hutchinson. So much shows in your face. I've never realized just what an amazingly expressive face you have. But now – it's all there to see. You hate me so much don't you Hutchinson? As much - no more – far more than I hate you. You want to kill me right now for what I've done to him this time don't you? Don't you? Look at me when I'm talking to you Hutchinson. Take your eyes from him and look at me!"

Hutch turned and looked at him.

"See, it's all there. The hatred and the violence you have toward me. Don't speak Hutchinson. Remember no words in front of him. Later you can tell me how you hate me, but not now…."

A noise and a movement from the bed had them both spinning toward the source.

Starsky was coming to.

"Now see? I just knew that he'd come around when you arrived. Ain't that sweet? Say nothing, do nothing but stand there. One move, one word and I'll start with his ankle remember?"

Hutch thought he would explode as he watched Starsky's struggle to the surface of consciousness. The need to reach out to him was so ingrained, so programmed into his neural system that to fight against his automatic response took incredible willpower.

Pain jumped into the indigo blue eyes before awareness. Shifting his head Starsky let out a deep heavy groan and when he tried to shift his lower body, the movements elicited gasp after gasp. The bed railing rattled as he attempted to move his arms and the inability to flex had the eyes widening even more. He struggled a little more with his arms and then in his eyes was the sign that awareness was dawning.

Memory was returning.

Hutch watched his partner's eyes. Eyes that he knew so well, could read so easily. Right now he was reading the first wave of emotion rolling in with the recall of recent events.

Shock, fear…..horror. All reflected in those dramatically blue eyes.

And then when the eyes found his own the worst emotion of them all was there for Hutch to look at. The sudden flare of hope and relief.

But there was no hope and there could be no relief and Hutch was not even permitted to let his partner know that.

How was Ryan going to use him against Starsky? What the hell was this game with the no talking? What purpose would it serve? Hutch kept looking from his partner to Ryan, trying to work out what this sick fucker was doing here.

It soon became apparent.

"…'Utch, 'Utch? What? Hey? Oh God! Hurts…shit it ….hurts…need you to help me …Hutch!"

_Don't look at me like that Starsky. I'm so sorry but I have nothing for you…I can't help you or he will hurt you even more._

The sheer confusion and bewilderment in the deep blue eyes was too much for Hutch to look at. But in his periphery he saw the glint of Ryan's gun near Starsky's side and so he forced himself to keep looking at his partner. Looking , staring , but saying nothing. Remaining still and not moving toward the bed. The sweat was trickling down his back now as he kept his feet planted firmly in one spot. He was sure he was gravitating forward and at any moment Ryan would call him on it.

Starsky twisted his head and found the full view of his captor and tormentor at the side of the bed. He looked back - hard at Hutch.

His eyes closed, he screwed them up tight and closed them for many seconds then looked at Hutch again.

It was almost too much for the blond. When was this treacherous bastard going to give him some reprieve from this nightmare?

Again he heard the plaintive whisper of his name, this time not sure, this time, not hopeful.

"Hutch?"

His eyes closed again and his head seemed to sink deeper into the pillow. He pulled listlessly on the constraints and the cuffs rattled, clanging crudely in the quietness of the room. Starsky next words were pregnant with realization – the realization that all was hopeless. That Hutch wasn't going to help him or save him.

That Hutch couldn't.

"Oh God – No…"

_Just another bonus, another kick for the twisted bastard. He wants Starsky to think I'm giving in to the situation. That I'm frightened of Ryan and that I won't reach out to him for that reason. I am frightened of him Starsk. Fuckin' terrified that he is going to take a crazed shot at you just to play around and fuck some more with my head. I don't know what to do here Starsk. I can't talk to you and I need to talk to you. Please understand why I'm not responding to you and your needs – please understand. Look at me, look at my eyes and you'll know…."_

Hutch's eyes bored into Starsky's closed ones. He waited. The eyes of his friend finally opened, a deep shuddering breath followed and he turned his head slowly to find Hutch's lighter blue eyes.

Powerless now to stop what he knew was a sheen of tears glistening there for Starsky to see, Hutch told him all he could with the second language shared by only the two of them. A long moment passed and Starsky's head gave an almost imperceptible nod – a movement so perceptively oblique that only someone who knew Starsky as well as he did could read it. Starsky understood. Ryan would have perceived it as a random movement – but Hutch caught it and he felt the rush of peaceful relief that at least they knew where they both stood now.

Finally Ryan addressed his captive.

"This is the second time tonight I've been waiting for you to wake up. I'm starting to get a complex here Starsky – that you're trying to avoid me. I don't like to be avoided and I don't like to be refused. I'm fucking tired of waiting. So now, you've had your rest, and now your closest friend is here for the performance, we can begin. Did you invite him here?"

"Got no idea what he's doin' here – so just send him away will ya'? "

"Is that what you really want Starsky? Not to have him here? You want us to be alone – totally alone?"

"Ya' heard me. Ya' got it. Hutch went behind my back and took all of this to Dobey. It's gonna' fuck up my career – so I don't give a shit 'bout him. Ya' hear that Hutch? Don't know why ya' followed me here for. Piss off, get outa here..I don't wanna look at ya' face!"

The bed rails clanged again as Starsky tried to force himself a little off the bed to make his message more emphatic.

_Oh Starsk….don't …don't. Don't do this to us. Don't try to do this all by yourself. It's not going to work anyway. He's not going to fall for it. You know I'd never leave no matter what anyway. He'll just punish you more for this._

Starsky stared beseechingly at Hutch but anyone else would have seen a ferocious glare and fuming expression.

Raucous laughter proved Hutch's analysis of Ryan to be on the money.

"So Hutchinson you hear that? There you have it. Your boyfriend is through with you and he doesn't want you at our private party here. He wants you to go. Not very considerate of him is it Hutchinson?"

Ryan laughed again and without warning he brought his hand down on Starsky's horribly swollen reddened wound and dug his fist into its pulpy mass. At Starsky's primal scream Hutch was lunging. His own scream ripping out of his throat was caught just in time.

Ryan swung around to Hutch and his gun was instantly directed toward Starsky's lower leg.

"Don't you fucking move or speak until I tell you remember!"

Hutch quelled his bubbling anxiety for the welfare of his friend.

"You two think I am a complete fucking idiot? Telling your partner to piss off Starsky. Do you take me for a complete fool? You can drop the theatrics now. He isn't going anywhere except over to that chair are you Detective Hutchinson? Go now or I'll have to hurt him again. Go and sit on that chair and wait for me."

As directed Hutch moved back to the chair, his whole body shaking from the shock of how erratic and uncontained Ryan behavior had become. Agonized whimpers from the bed had nausea roiling in his stomach.

_How much more can Starsky take?_

Ryan approached him as he settled himself shakily in the chair. Walking behind him Ryan started roughly handling his cuffed wrists.

"I'm going to cuff you to this chair now. It's solid enough to hold you so that it will be damn hard work for you to go anywhere. I have my gun trained on your partner so stay very still while I do this Hutchinson. You have already seen that I don't like to be taken for a fool – so do not give me any reason to fire a round into lover boy over there."

Within seconds the job was accomplished. Hutch made no move to intercept this mentally unstable psychopath. Instead he used every spare moment feverishly trying to establish some viable plan to get them both out of this alive.

"Good. Now all you need to do is sit and enjoy the show. By the way, your curfew is lifted. I don't mind if you want to cheer along at the show. Might be nice for your partner to know you're there in the background. In fact he might need a little moral support because last time we tried this he was quite shy with me weren't you Starsk? This time he might be more willing – there is after all no possible way out."

"Ryan, Please. Stop this now. It's not too late. If you go any further your whole life is ruined – everything gone. Not only will your career be destroyed, but your life too. You'll do time for this Ryan. I'll make sure of it, you know I will. If you let him free now, don't hurt him anymore, I promise I'll mitigate your sentence."

There was no more raucous laughter now just the hateful, ugly sneer. There was nothing in Ryan's face but pure contempt for Hutch.

"Oh you would would you Detective? Almighty Detective Hutchinson – who the fuck do you think you are? I want one thing in life now and that's what's waiting for me on the bed. It's way too late for my career and we all know it. My time as a cop is finished, but I'll take my chances on my life and prison. Either way this is worth the risk. I'm too hungry to stop now. So save your self-righteous pompous speeches . They don't mean anything to me. "

Ryan turned his back on the blond and moved toward the quietly groaning man on the bed.

oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooO OOooo

It had barely begun and Hutch could take no more. No more.

He was rocking back and forth on the heavy chair, pulling, pushing with his feet, thrashing his legs, crying out and screaming till his throat was raw. Spittle flew from his mouth as he tossed his head and rampaged.

Wet sticky blood was dripping from his wrists where he had pulled hard against the cuffs repeatedly. He knew as he was tearing at the cuffs that it was a stupid move, a stupid futile action – his mind knew it but he had no control to stop the self-destructive twisting of his wrists and lower arms.

He could only imagine what state Starsky's wrists were in with his arms pulled cruelly above his head and cuffed to the bed. His repeated contorted movements and full body bucking on the bed must have ripped every layer of flesh from his manacled wrists.

No longer concerned about restraining his verbal attack or holding back on his anguished cries of defamation at Starsky's abuser, Hutch let loose with every expletive he could conjure and every threat he could phrase and scream at the man attacking Starsky. So lost was Ryan in his own lustful sexual frenzy and demonic dance that he was well beyond conceptualizing and carrying through with a fitting form of punishment against Starsky for Hutch's unchecked sideline verbal abuse.

His back, chest and arms were slick with sweat from his agitated movements to get closer to Starsky and to remain unrelenting in his attempts to free himself from the heavy chair. Interspersed with screaming at Ryan he softened his tone and called repeatedly to his partner, calling his name over and over like a mantra - half to console himself and half in what he knew was a useless attempt to somehow soothe the sharp edges of the shocking nightmare Starsky was going through.

But everything he did, screamed and hoped for brought no relief to his own internal agony and did nothing whatsoever for Starsky's living nightmare. Ryan was unstoppable and if anything his attack on Starsky was escalating. Every cry Hutch let forth crashed and landed in a void where reality had no place. Here consequences were not considered and sexual and violent gratification had no limits. Ryan was encapsulated in a vacuum of madness.

The hell of it was that Starsky was in there with him.

The hell of it was he was out here and could do nothing.

Into the noisy mêlée was the deep backdrop of Ryan's seductive tones - his whispered promises to the person beneath him that his deluded brain told him was his lover. Starsky's wild thrashing was only serving to excite him and stoked the furnaces of his disturbed fantasies. His language was that of a steamy sex session – peppered with crude expressions and imagery and told of the faraway place that Ryan's mind had taken him too.

In his mind there was no background of a frantic third person screaming and begging for him to stop. Likewise there was no traumatized and physically abused victim struggling for freedom and escape. There was only him the competent and skilled master of seduction and his highly engaged lover, writhing together on a huge bed, pleasuring each other and mating in ecstasy.

Ryan had left Hutch and walked to the bed and prepared himself for his long-awaited sexual conquest of the man he had coveted since the first days he had set eyes on him in the Academy.

He stood beside the bed looking almost reverently at the man lying there still caught in the throes of desperate waves of pain from the most recent assault. While he watched Starsky and never taking his eyes off him, Ryan undressed.

Not hurriedly. There was no rush. He used ritualistic and languid extravagant movements as if the very act of disrobing was in itself arousing for him. With the same slowness he placed his bloodied and damaged clothes on the small chair beside the bed. Although a big man, muscular and tall , he moved quietly and effortlessly to position himself on top of Starsky. Straddling the man under him now he placed his solid thighs tightly on either side of the man who stared up at him with murderous wild eyes.

"Time to get ready for me Starsk."

Taking a small pocketknife from the side table where he had placed it earlier, he cut away the bedraggled and sweaty shirt from the dark chest of the man beneath him. The cutting movements were precise, no damage done to the flesh below and once the fabric was pulled away he bundled it and threw it to the side. As he bent over Starsky to place the knife back on the table he began his first move of seduction. Bending lower he began nuzzling at the hair that curled around his lover's neck, nipping, licking, sucking. Moving in even closer he held the rocking head steady, his hands digging into the sides of the face to hold it steady before he ploughed his tongue into Starsky's mouth, biting gently and then savagely at his lips and grinding his teeth with his own. Each time Starsky moved away or tried to spit at him or bite him he brought his head back savagely to repeat the process. His hand would go lower to move threateningly over the flaming area near the knife wound if Starsky did not refrain immediately from lashing back at Ryan. At one time when Starsky bit down hard on Ryan's lip the instant pay back on his tender side had Starksy screaming into Ryan's open mouth. Ryan was permitted to deliver pain but would not receive it or tone it down when Starsky retaliated in the only ways he could.

Ryan pulled away from his face and shook his head from side to side, "tsking" Starsky like he was some errant child.

"You're only hurting yourself Lover. You are going to end up with your wound opened up very soon if you keep making me angry and the way you're thrashing around – your wrists will be fucked big time. Stay still, still or you will have no hands left when your wrists are cut through. Stop fighting me Starsk – this is all inevitable. Nothing can stop us now – nothing and no-one."

His face and cruel mouth sought lower territory and his big body shuffled lower on the bed as still bent at the waist and still sitting heavily across Starsky's pelvis he began his dual attack on the dark haired torso. Hands and mouth worked at once but in different areas. A caress than a squeeze, a suck than a bite, a kiss than a lick.

The words of unfettered lust increased – excitement obviously building in him. The sounds of desire and lust were emitted as gasps between his ravaging of Starsky's now bleeding torso where the nips and small deep bites had drawn blood. Ryan appeared to be fascinated by the sight of something he had created – evidence of his intense arousal.

"Now Lover I want all of you – to see all of you – laid out for me."

As his hands started to work on pulling Starsky's tight jeans down and off his legs, the first real violence of the seduction made its debut.

The body beneath him was not about to yield easily despite its weakening state. Starsky began to fight in earnest and his legs and hips bucked and twisted, turned and evaded. Obscenities poured out at his molester.

"You filthy cocksuckin' asshole. Told you to keep your fuckin' hands off me. You're gettin' no more of me. I'll rip ya' fuckin' heart out."

Ryan sat up higher and backhanded him twice in quick succession. Starsky's already throbbing, pounding head felt like it was literally smashing open. The nausea – familiar now with him as a pain barometer, hit him like a train. He gagged back the vomit and tried to remain still to stop the room from crashing in on him. The next sign that his body could take no more was the dimming vision and the retreating sounds of his partner screaming in the background. Sight and sound were leaving him. He could feel unconsciousness creeping in again and he panicked.

This time, unlike the last time in his apartment he didn't want to be unaware of what was happening.

This time Hutch was in the room and Ryan was more out of control than Starsky had every seen him.

This time he might just need to endure these atrocities so that he and Hutch could live.

The bucking settled and he laid quiet – fighting back the thick wall of blackness. He didn't want to wake from unconsciousness to find Hutch lying dead beside him on the bed. More than ever he was convinced that this was something that Ryan was highly capable of doing, given his deteriorating mental status.

His jeans were pulled down and away. He didn't just allow Ryan to do it, but rather arrived at the conclusion that it was now an inevitable reality. To fight anymore would serve no purpose but allowing Ryan to weaken him even more than he already was.

For a singular cherished moment the cool ocean night area played over his hot lower body, gentle and kind and so different to the cruel punishing fingers that quickly found his naked exposed skin. The soothing touch of the ocean air was gone. In its place was the touch of evil.

"Now that's better isn't it? See it feels good doesn't it? My hands on you, on your bare flesh, all of you ready for me now Starsky. Ready and naked. Oh God, do you know how I've longed for this, to have you like this? I'm so pleased you chose this ocean house for us Lover. Its so perfect don't you think? We can fuck ourselves stupid here all night to the sound of the waves. I can't wait to ram my cock into you like those pounding waves. That's what I'm going to do baby – yeah. Pound you into this bed."

Ryan hands seized the limp cock and the flaccid balls.

"Now last time we loved each other you didn't manage to get it up for me did you? I'm not going to worry about that tonight Starsky – no. Tonight's all about me, for me and what I want. I don't give a shit if you can't get off and by the looks of things now that is the case again. I'm not happy about that, but I'm not going to let it ruin my fun either.

No I'm not happy about that."

Seizing Starsky's balls he squeezed the twins sacs and pulled viciously on his dormant penis until he was rewarded with the howl of pain.

"See what happens when I'm not happy Lover? You've got to learn to look a little interested in your bed partner. Bet you get it up real fast when you want to fuck your blond boy don't you? But not me right? "

He increased the pressure and tension on Starsky's already tender testes and sneered at the fresh scream from the man pinned beneath him.

Ryan's own cock was already engorged and erect. He squatted proudly above Starsky now and showcased his physiological accomplishment.

"Look! Look at it! See how hungry I am for you Lover. It's fucking pulsing for you and I can't wait much longer. You can see how ready I am for you. "

He took a moment to wipe his hands over the tip of the swollen head and with his fingers glistening with pre-cum he roughly anointed Starsky's mouth with it.

"Taste it Lover – that is what I have for you. I'm going to fill you with it, spurt all of it into you. Then I'll be part of you – your very First. I know I'll be your first. Your blond lover has never had your ass before has he? No one has. I saw the blood last time we were together Starsky. You've kept yourself for me haven't you? All these years….well tonight – its mine."

Starsky was weak. So terribly weak and it was all he could do now to hold on and stay semi-conscious. The pain in his side was beyond unbearable and the splitting ache in his skull was distorting every incoming message to his overwhelmed brain. Sounds and vision were distorted and thankfully a blanket of mind-numbing detachment was descending upon him and pulling him to a place , a sanctuary where sensations were divorced from his brain. Already the mind blowing fire in his side was fading from him – not in its intensity but in his ability to perceive it, to own it. Pain was less and less a part of him. He had seen enough of this phenomenon during his time in 'Nam and several times over the years on the job as a cop. Extreme pain, torture, prolonged physical torment could kill or lead to an eventual detachment where the mind lifted itself away from the physical entity, the centre of the pain.

He willed his mind to do its best for him now but to leave enough of him behind to watch out for his partner. To at least be aware of what was going to happen to his partner, even if he couldn't stop it.

Starsky felt himself disappearing deeper and deeper into the haven of his mind. His body was being pulled and pushed, touched and mauled but only a small part of him still remained with that tortured flesh that was his body.

Hutch's voice, his distressed repetition of his name was all that kept him anchored to awareness. He wanted to call out to Hutch, to reassure him that it was all ok – he would be ok now. His body was still here on this bed with this evil creation above him, but he himself was in another place – not fully yet – but getting further and further away from the bright pain and cruelty that this animal was bestowing upon him. He didn't dare call out to Hutch – for enough of him remained here in this room to understand that to do so could be a death sentence for one of them.

Ryan wanted there to be nothing between them. That's what all of this was about. He understood that now. Hutch's punishment was to be here to watch the severance of his partner from him and seemingly, or so in Ryan's sick mind, his union with him instead. Ryan aimed to fuck him and own him – effectively tearing apart the bond between him and Hutch.

_As if it could be that simple you twisted sick dumbfuck. You think by ramming your cock up my tight ass and making me bleed for you is enough to break a bond of a lifetime? You think that to degrade me sexually and to rape my body is all it takes to separate me from a Hutch and make me yours because you have fucked with my head and not just my body?_

And then in the quiet of his own head, his own words hit him hard. He could still hear Ryan's deep murmurings of excitement and the soft background of Hutch's now hoarse cries of distress , but he heard his own thoughts with deafening volume. He heard his own thoughts and threats against Ryan again.

_You think that to degrade me sexually and to rape my body is all it takes to separate me from a Hutch and make me yours because you have fucked with my head and not just my body?_

Yes it was enough. Starsky realized it now.

Ryan _had_ achieved exactly those things.

Ryan's treatment of him had effectively removed him from Hutch, had begun to sever the bond, had made him doubt the trust they shared. From the first time he had laid his hands on him Ryan had begun a successful campaign to tear the two of them apart. It had ended with Hutch feeling like he was pushed into a corner where his only option to help his partner was to go against what Starsky wanted. This effectively ensured that Starsky blamed Hutch for saving him from Ryan.

All of his behavior in the past weeks, culminating in today's hasty and ill-conceived flight from facing up to what Ryan had done to him - had meant that Ryan had in fact won.

In those moments of awareness Starsky's insight into the anger he felt toward Hutch for what he had done _to save him _was just so much more pain to be heaped upon what he had already endured tonight.

_I'm so sorry Hutch. I haven't been able to see this, to see what Ryan has done to me and you. I've let him bring me down and take away my trust in you. You tried to tell me so many times…_

_I will not let go. Don't let go. Stay here – must keep part of me here - for Hutch. Ryan only wants Hutch here to punish him by watching all of this. If I let go – he won't need Hutch anymore. He'll kill him. Ryan will kill him. For, without a show there is no point in having an audience. If I keep letting Ryan perform, Hutch will live. _

_Buy time, buy time…..I just need to buy time._

And then his bleakest darkest thought emerged and he faced it.

_Buy time for what? No way out of this. If Hutch had called for backup when he tracked me here, they would have been here long ago. Damn stupid fool came riding to the rescue again – alone. Hutch can't save me this time and I sure as hell can't save him._

_In the end we will both die. _

_Ryan will kill us both. _

Then he felt the bed shifting beneath him, dipping and swaying as Ryan's big mass adjusted himself, readied himself for his ultimate fulfilment. Starsky knew that he had to accept the situation.

No longer terrified but still full of hate, he locked away his burning desire to kill Ryan deep into his soul and let it remain there while he detached himself further and further from the acts that were being wrought upon his now defenseless body.

As Ryan continued to murmur and mutter the filth that were his love words to him, and roughly positioned his injured body into a contorted assembly of limbs that would allow him optimum access and penetration, Starsky retreated further.

Now that he was quiet he realized dimly that Hutch was also quiet and the only sounds now were the animalistic grunts and moans emanating from the contorted face above him.

He could feel his buttocks being raised, his pelvis tipped upward, his legs almost painfully splayed and hoisted onto Ryan's big shoulders. Fingers dug into his buttocks, squeezing and gripping tightly for leverage – but the sensations were observations more than feelings.

_So this is it Starsky. This is what this monster has been waiting for all of these years. This is going to happen now and there ain't no stoppin' it. Take yourself away now - NOW! Go! You don't want to be here for this one._

The distance was widening between him and the monstrosities that were happening to him at this moment - he was almost able to look back into the room and watch the gritty end of this nightmarish scene from a safe distance.

But Hutch, Hutch was still trapped there, tied to the chair - captive to the horror in front of him. Somehow Starsky's fading eyes caught the blond head, darkened with sweat. The damp head was bowed low, Hutch's chin sunken into his chest, his shoulders slumped down, his face no longer facing up.

_Good Hutch...Good. Just don't look, don't listen, don't think. Take yourself out of here in your mind - because that's what I've done and it's all we can do to get through this._

The voice of the devil that was Ryan was back echoing in the room._  
_

"Oh fucking YES ...here it comes Lover. I can't wait another second!"

With no digital preparation of Starsky's tight anal muscles Ryan had to use brute force to penetrate the tight ring into which he savagely pushed the head of his penis. As Ryan's rock hard cock rammed mercilessly into the resistant core of his very centre it ripped fresh flesh asunder. Starsky noted the excruciating electrical firing of the stretched muscles and tissues being stretched and torn, but he gave no ownership to its effect on his body.

For pain without a mind to receive and translate it, was not pain at all.

In the distance he heard Ryan's crescendo of cries and bellowing pleasure that matched each new powerful thrust, but the sounds no longer registered as part of his personal experience.

There was however one stimulus, one sound that registered – and even now in his faraway place it cut him to the quick.

It was the sound of Hutch. The sound of Hutch softly crying.


	12. Chapter 12

**Then Neither Can He**

**Chapter 12**

**Warning: This chapter contains explicit depiction of non-consensual male rape and sexual violence. Do not read further if this subject matter or content offends or upsets you or you are not of appropriate age.**

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**.**

It was a dramatic setting. All the qualities of a still shot capture of mood, lighting and art were present in the room. Three bodies, all men, one bound to a chair, one to a bed, the third laying atop the bed bound man. All three caught in a posture of repose, soft light dancing on their sweat soaked bodies. But imbalance marked the graphic picture and spoke of power, pain and inducement of fear.

In the distance the hypnotic crashing of waves provided the perfect backdrop to the frozen scene splayed out in the plush bedroom. Fresh sea breeze through the open window could not compete with the air in the room – thick and redolent with heavy sex and fresh blood. Above the men hung a spectre of fresh violence and suffering, their bodies all inanimate now, perfectly still as though the frame had just been snapped immediately after the event.

The event in fact had occurred more than twenty minutes ago. Each of the three men had retreated to a different place leaving behind this impression of a point frozen in time and space.

The dark curly-haired man cuffed to the bed in a cruel fashion so that his arms were pulled high above his head to the bed railing, was in a zone farthest away from the room. Although his body tainted in blood and bruises was splayed out in a grotesque caricature of a homoerotic sculpture, his mind was far away in another sanctuary of compartmentalizm.

The massive bulk of the naked man above him was in the place of sleep, the heavy sated sleep that comes on the heels of an almighty orgasm and sexual fulfillment. Face down his large body was pressing heavily into the man beneath him, pressing them both into the soft folds of the oversized bed.

The third man was a study in abject emotional pain. Slumped down in the heavy chair his arms were cuffed also, pulled and secured behind him to the chair. Unlike the bound man in the bed his body showed no signs of trauma and yet he appeared almost mortally wounded. His damp blond head was upright with his tortured face staring hard at the bodies on the bed. His light blue eyes wide and filled with pain were red and swollen from tears that had stopped a long time ago.

Suddenly the still frame broke.

A sudden creaking of the bed and a flexing of limbs broke the passive scene.

The large man who had lain heavily on the other man had begun to wake.

_No more. Surely no more. Please just let him stand up now and walk away from what he has done. Let him walk away and leave Starsky alone._

Hutch looked away and to the side and told himself that when he turned his head back that Ryan would have answered his hopes. That Ryan would be sitting up and reaching for crumpled clothes. That Ryan would be moving away from Starsky, his appetite for barbarism filled this time at least.

But then the deep voice, that sickening voice, because that's what is was now to Hutch's ears - a sound that brought bile rushing up his throat, cut across the silence.

Ryan was addressing the broken doll that was Starsky. The caliber, the pitch and the content of what he had to say showcased his descent into deeper madness.

"Oh look at you Lover. I've worn you out, left you a little used up. That's a shame because I haven't finished with you yet."

Hutch opened his mouth to plead one more time with the deranged animal on the bed. Hoarse croaks of desperation had the big man turning now toward him.

Ryan sat on his haunches, sweeping the still smooth curtain of blackness away from his now bruising face. Even after prolonged physical exertion the black shiny curtain of hair swung across his face like some black shroud thick and heavy. Hutch thought he was the personification of evil – such was his hatred of this man.

He looked at the blond bound to the chair with what was almost surprise. It was as though he had been so engrossed in his gratification of the brutal rape that he had forgotten about the presence of the captive forced to witness his orchestrated performance.

"Oh For Christ Sake Hutchinson, don't plead with me. I liked it better when you were screaming every filthy name you had in you – you know it was a real turn on in the background. It got me off even more, knowing you were there, watching every thrust of my hard cock up your beloved partners virginal ass. Did it turn you on too Hutch? Did you let yourself believe that was your cock up Starsky's rear end, ripping that hard flesh, making him bleed and clench?"

"You …..are….not well Ryan. So sick…you are so sick, unwell. Not too late to stop. Leave him now, I beg you. Please leave him."

Hutch labored to articulate the hoarse whispers, his throat raw from constant yelling. For his efforts the all too familiar contemptuous half laugh half sneer was still baiting him.

"Not too late? Maybe you are the eternal optimist Hutchinson, but Jesus Christ, look at your friend here on the bed. Look at him!"

He leapt from the bed, revived now from his short but deep post - coital sleep. His big naked form loomed in front of the seated man. Hard fingers pulled up the flattened blond hair and held the head up directing it toward the bed.

"Look at my Lover lying there like that and tell me again that it is not too late. He has bled for me Hutchinson. Blood – his blood for me. Not you. ME! I have broken him and now you'll never be able to have him as yours. Never. So yes. It is way too late for you to save your precious friend and keep him whole for yourself."

And then in the next instant as if the seated man was once more forgotten, he swung back to the bed and moved to its edge.

With hooded heavy eyes that appraised the mute almost lifeless form that in his depraved mind was his lover, Ryan climbed back on to the end of the bed and reached for a body already more than used up.

He stretched his frame out alongside the length of Starsky's splayed one and laying head to head he looked at Starsky's closed eyes.

"Wake up. I want you to wake up. I need you to look at me when I love you Starsky."

His hands wrapped around Starsky's back and hip, rolling him onto his side and pressing the lengths of their two naked bodies skin to skin.

Whispering words of want and sexual longing he began thrusting his hips and pelvis into the pliant body he held against him. Within a few thrusts his flaccid penis began to engorge once more and his pace quickened.

Rutting at the dormant man's pelvis and groin his erection swelled, springing up to rest against his own belly, pulsing and turgid.

"Oh fucking hell look lover. I'm ready for you again. You do this to me – see? My cock just can't get enough of you. It's waited so long to have you, to taste you to pin you down, that it just can't stop. My cock needs more Starsky. You're going to have to give me more."

Jumping up on his knees he pulled himself up the bed so that his pelvis was aligned with Starsky's head.

He reached for the face and mouth that were both closed to him and anger flashed across his strong features. The mercurial mood snapped again.

"Wake the fuck up! I want to ram my cock into your mouth and you are going to suck me down Starsky. I want you to look at me while I do it."

His frustration grew as Starsky stayed still, eyes almost entirely closed and his face in an unresponsive mask. Ryan brought his pelvis closer to his face and trying to use one hand to pull and hold open Starsky's slack mouth he attempted to thrust his large swollen cock into the aperture.

Screaming now he struck out again at the beaten face, slapping it into awareness. His efforts were only minimally successful as Starsky gave out a light groan and opened his eyes briefly before shutting them tight again.

Ryan's sustained abuse drew more anguished hoarse cries from behind him as once more the heavy chair began crashing back and forth on the floor and Hutch tried frantically to break through Ryan's sealed off madness.

"Please Ryan. Please. You have to stop. He can't take anymore, can't take anymore …..Please. Can't you see he is unresponsive? He can't even hear you! Leave him alone!"

As with all other attempts to break into Ryan's psychopathy, the roughened words, hoarse and strangled, were wasted.

With a strangled roar Ryan sat back again and started stroking his penis feverishly while he used his other hand to push his fingers into Starsky's mouth. In a thrusting pattern he established a rhythm using his fingers to ram in and out of the mouth while stroking his cock in the same tempo. The act was finally satisfying some of his need for oral stimulation and for a while he became lost again in his own sexual zone.

When he was once more rock hard he let Starsky's limp head fall back on to the damp pillows, sullied now by a mixture of sweat and blood and he relinquished his hold on his rigid cock. Once more he moved lower onto the foot of the bed as he repositioned his subject for another round of savage penetration.

His hands fondled Starsky's genitals but he was beginning to show awareness that nothing he could do now was going to excite the flaccid penis into life. The black eyes flashed out from beneath the heavy scowl.

"All this time I've waited for you and you can't even get it up for a minute for me. You are so freaking useless. I wanted so much to do things to this cock of yours – but it seems maybe that will have to wait for another time Starsk. Right now though I can make use of my own to fill you up one more time. Like that would you Starsk? Want me in there again? Up inside you? It'll be easier this time – you might even enjoy it. Wake up and feel me come inside you, feel me pour into you."

With Starsky's legs once more thrown over his shoulders he pulled roughly at the torn perineum and plunged experimental fingers into the ripped bloody anus.

"Oh yeah – much looser this time. I won't have to ram quite so hard lover and I can last longer now because I've already had you once. Get ready Starsky – this is gonna be a long fucking ride. "

Ryan plunged, withdrew and plunged again. Pausing mid thrust he looked again at the impassive body. There was now no response from the body he used so cruelly.

His now bloodied fingers came up to stroke Starsky's exposed throat. With his head tipped back and lifeless on the pillow the bare skin of his neck once more captured Ryan's attention.

"I want you to get hard for me. Just once you bastard. Surely you can get hard. Feel me pushing deeper and higher into you? Rubbing my cock along those deep parts of you that have never been explored before Lover…."

Looking down and seeing not a flicker in Starsky's inert cock as it lay still and flat against its nest of dark curls, Ryan's face suffused with red hot anger – his sporadic mood changing yet again.

"Perhaps if I give you a little incentive Starsky? Deprive you of some oxygen for just a little while… a little foreplay asphyxiation for you and me to enjoy together? You know it usually works so well. Gives a crazy rush."

The bloodied hands closed around the throat that was already marked from his earlier encircling hands and squeezing of airways. Ryan steadily increased the pressure to the already traumatized tissues around the neck. Starsky's weak breath picked up in rate and his face began to purple as his blood oxygen dropped. Too weak to struggle now his hands clenched the sheets and pulled as if this his body was acting independently to draw breath into his tortured lungs.

"Ryan! Ryan! OH MY GOD! Stop! He can't breathe, you're going to choke him to death. Let go – take your hands away from his throat he's going to…"

Hutch reached a new level of desperation as Ryan's actions against Starsky were becoming successively more inhumane and unpredictable. When Ryan finally dropped his hands away from the softly gagging throat just as suddenly as he had put them there, Hutch sagged back into his cuffs.

_When will this horror end? Please make this end. _

Excited by the changes in his victim and his quiet struggle, Ryan settled himself into a steady rhythm and with each thrust his grunts grew louder and his accompanying patter of sex talk more profane.

"Yeah! Yeah! I'm a fucking sexual beast and I'm gonna fuck your ass till your core is so ripped up you'll never be able to have another man fuck you again Starsky. You hear that? Feel that? That's pain – pain for you so you know never never to let another man up this ass but the one that is here now. Your blond lover will never get near your ass now, not after what I've done to it. You'll never forget this ride! You have two scars from me now Starsky. Oh yeah baby…that's it. Two scars that make me own you. The knife wound and now….now….Jesus that is sooooo good babe…..this wound. The wound where I fucked your ass so hard you'll never forget the man who did this to you."

Starsky's body shifted and moved beneath him with each forceful thrust. But the body had no tone of its own , no will of its own, jerking and adapting only to the effect of each physical assault. To Hutch's total despair it reminded him of how a body might jump and fall with each electric current from a defibrillator. It was as though his partner was dead and his lifeless body was jumping with each attempt to resuscitate him.

_Don't think that sort of shit Hutch! Don't think it. He is not going to die. Starsky is not going to die and he will not need to be resuscitated. Get that shit out of your head. Don't let Ryan make you think this shit. Stay with this. Keep your head. There has to be a way out of this._

Starsky's body refused to respond to any stimulus now. His legs lying crudely across Ryan's heaving shoulders were perfectly still, the muscles now relaxed, no longer fighting or trying to ward off the harsh penetration of the thick shaft of flesh or the prying squeezing fingers. Starsky's body had become nothing more than a lifeless vessel but the man plundering it seemed to hardly concern himself with its nature. His imminent orgasm had him jerking his big body harder and harder, crying out in his last throes of ecstasy as the climax overtook him.

As he drove his final few thrusts into the bleeding cavity his loud wild cry eclipsed even the violent retching sounds coming from the man in the chair.

As Ryan pinnacled sexually and screamed his delight at spilling more fresh semen into Starsky, Hutch leaned heavily to the side and vomited the contents of his stomach, heaving over and over.

It had been a long while now since Hutch had heard any words or intelligible communication from his partner. Although it was hard to see his full body from where he was sitting, Hutch knew that all movements had ceased for Starsky except for flickers of hands and fingers and clenching of small muscles. In essence the man who had been savagely raped had gone from here. The shock had taken him to another zone where at least he might have found some peace for his mind - if not his body.

Very soon, as there seemed no end to this vortex of pain for them both, Hutch considered that he too would free his mind from this shocking reality.

Whatever Ryan did with them from here on in was out of their control.

Never had Hutch felt more powerless or more defeated. Not even at the receiving end of Forrest's men and their crucifying needles.

Ryan held all the cards and most importantly he held Starsky's life in his filthy God forsaken hands.

oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOooo

Riley assessed the situation like any good cop should. With Hutch's voice in his head, the valuable training and skills he had already acquired under his tutelage, he climbed out of the black and white carefully and began to take stock of all that he had at hand.

Which wasn't an awful lot he realized.

This time he was here by himself – on a scene with no backup and no guidance. This time there was no tall blond experienced street cop to follow or to give him his cues.

But he had some courage, some instinct and motivation to intervene in any situation where Hutch might be in trouble.

It had to be enough.

The big house was almost in complete darkness from the front. All entries seemed secure. The brown beaten up clapper that was Hutch's hallmark of a car and Starsky's proud and joy, Torino were parked in full view. A third car off to the side of the property was partially hidden. It stood to reason that it was Ryan's, but of course that was just supposition. Smart procedure would have meant calling the car in and getting a lead on who it was registered to but that would take time. Instead, Riley went with pure supposition.

_They are all here – but who arrived first Ryan or Hutch? _

Within a few minutes he had made his decision. A quick casing of the house suggested that the only open entry was the rear balcony door, high up and leading into the only lit room. A dim light shone inside the sliding door, but he could not see anything more than that.

All three men were no doubt inside – in what sort of scenario he didn't know, but he needed to find out. He could waste time testing access points around the house which might give him a stealthy entrance, but what would that gain now?

The house was entirely quiet. No voices, no sounds.

_Something's very wrong in there._

Part of him was frightened. Going in with no back up was stupid – he knew that. But the pull to assist Hutch, to be there for him, was too great.

He debated on calling for backup. Backup for what? He had nothing of note to report and he was a junior officer on a non-sanctioned job anyway. How could he call out a patrol backup on a hunch that there might be something sinister waiting for him inside?

No, he needed to assess the lay of the land for himself. It could be that he would make blunder in to a perfectly normal situation and have to field off embarrassing questions as to why he was there. All three men may be now sitting down and quietly working out their differences over a drink.

The sheer incongruence of that idea had him rejecting it immediately. Remembering the look of pure seething rage on Hutch's face whenever Ryan's name was raised, Riley doubted any likelihood of "Let's talk this over…" scenarios between Ryan and Hutch.

_Yeah sure Riley. Like Hutch is going to be sitting down having a quiet man to man talk to Ryan about how he feels about him! But hell! I really can't call anything in till I get a feel for what has gone on here._

Before he analyzed himself and his actions anymore he raised his fist to the elaborate front door and banged hard. He needed to be definitive after all.

"Detective Starsky? It's Officer Riley. I'm looking for Detective Hutchinson. Starsky?"

He waited and knocked even harder.

"Starsky! Detective Hutchinson?"

And again. More insistent. Louder.

"Ken! It's Riley. Please open the door so that I know everything is alright in there."

His young tone was firm now and his voice as booming as he could project it.

"Police! Open the door!"

The stillness from within had Riley's hair on his neck rising. This was it! He was going in. Sweat had already dampened his brow as he tried to keep every one of Hutch's pointers on "How best to stay alive during a forced entry" running through his head. Talking himself through the steps he stood back to fire two rounds into the heavy door and watched as the lock splintered and the door moved slowly inwards on its hinges. With no backup cover he had to do the best he could solo but he hoped the moves he was making would do Hutch proud.

Edging around the now blown open door he ducked low and swept his gun ahead on him in sweeping arcs, pleased to note that his arms were steady in front and not shaking nearly so much like he was inside. The entrance and living room were deserted and the dim light that he had seen outside was coming from what looked to be the master suite off to the side.

His heart rate had picked up even more as he narrowed his focus onto the doorway of the bedroom and edged closer to the entrance.

oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOooo

It was Riley. Hutch could hear his voice clearly now – loud and firm as his pure young manly voice sang out it's warning of imminent forced entry. His almost catatonic gaze that was focused on the two bodies on the bed wavered, flickered and broke its fixed stare. His head turned to the doorway of the bedroom and his hands which had been still for a long while now, began once again flexing and moving within the constraints of the tight cuffs.

Emerging from his emotionally shocked stupor he desperately tried to summon his attention to the voice calling out and its implications.

_Shit No Riley! What the hell? How? How did you find us? Be careful, he's in here, Ryan's in here and he has Starsky….Oh My God please don't do anything to destabilize him further…._

At the same time his brain was starting to click into gear again – the stupor was lifting as he fought to think logically and not emotionally. Riley's intrusion would be the catalyst to at least change the dynamics of Ryan's total monopoly on what was happening in this room. He and Starsky were caught here – unless someone or something happened to the present scenario Hutch could not see a way out of this hellish situation for them without further pain and suffering. Starsky was near the end of his physical tolerance – his body had surely reached its limit on what it could endure.

Hutch couldn't begin to fathom the limits his partner's mental tolerance had been tested. Starsky's total cessation of any verbalization had him terrified.

Ryan had again fallen into a post-sex slumber. Was it was too much to hope that Ryan would stay asleep with the sounds of Riley's invasion blasting through the house? Given that he must have felt entirely wasted after the wild sexual orgy he had pushed his body through, it was possible that he may not be able to be roused would for a while yet.

Within moments Hutch's hopes were dashed. Ryan's years of light cop sleeping on stakeouts meant that even after a sexual marathon he was easily alerted to threats.

The big mass of a man who only seconds earlier had been near comatose, lifted his dark head, the sheet of black hair falling across his brow as his eyes leapt to almost instant alertness.

With litheness that one would not expect from his big muscular frame he pulled himself up quickly and rolled off the bleeding and battered body beneath him.

In seconds he had his gun in his hand and was reaching for his pants. He had only just pulled them onto his legs and was securing them at his waist when Riley's extended arms and gun presented itself around the half-open bedroom doorway.

Ryan raised his own weapon at shoulder level as Riley came into view.

Riley's breathing was discernible and his young face was a study in concentrated determination.

The first view of the bedroom had him reeling. What had he expected?

Part of him had imagined human casualties , blood, and trauma, even death. He was not so naïve to contrive a scenario where the three men would be all sitting, talking, working their differences out. This evening was a culmination of so much. He knew that. It was a culmination of the stress and drama that had unraveled over the past weeks and began when Starsky entered the undercover operation with Ryan. Whatever had been waiting for him inside this beach house was not likely to be anything but bad.

And what was before his eyes now as he perfected his sweep into the room, was what he would term "bad". His young inexperienced senses were overpowered by the raw violence that awaited him. It was at once , the very worst he had feared and yet hoped never to confront. With little time to deal with his reaction, he struggled to equilibrate, right himself and still maintain his covered position. The gun in his hand never felt heavier but when the weight and the muscle tension sang out for him to relax his hold, he doubled his efforts to stabilise his stance.

His gaze sought and found Hutch first. Was this the man who had left his side only a scant few hours ago? This hollowed out, distraught and exhausted man with eyes that barely seemed to recognize him, to react at all, let alone react, as a cop should when someone crashes into a closed up house?

His senior officer was bound to a chair and appeared emotionally and physically beaten. Riley smelled the fresh vomit before he saw it, still glistening wet on his senior partner's chin.

Riley tried to read the light blue eyes but it was a skill he was only just beginning to learn and all he could ascertain was that his boss was suffering.

His gaze swung to the bed and he spared only a moment to let his attention linger there. It was too traumatic – too overloading for him to keep looking and he quickly averted his eyes from a naked, vulnerable and damaged Starsky. From where he was standing he couldn't be sure that Starsky was still alive, because he sure as hell didn't look like he was moving or breathing. Riley's pulse hammered hard in his chest at trying to align visual stimulus with ramifications of his next actions.

The big man with the bare chest, black long hair and a gun pointing almost languidly in his direction, demanded the bulk of his attention. Ryan was staring him down, goading him as he had come to know was this man's style – surveying him with cool, superior smugness.

The cop in Riley pushed away the fear of the images in the room and of his friend tied to the chair and hurting. Concentrating hard to focus on only what was important right now, his eyes locked onto Ryan's contemptuous face. Hutch's words were in his head now and he heeded them.

"Do not – ever, ever, take your eyes off a man facing you down with a gun. It will take a split second for one of you to move the trigger finger – assume it will be him."

Ryan, dark eyed with sardonic coolness flickered his gaze over Riley. He had dropped his gun arm from shoulder height, his weapon now held loosely in his hand. He seemed almost bored with what was presented to him in this new Rookie. It occurred to Riley that if he he was trying to project nonchalance, he was doing a good job. He had definitely succeeded. Riley felt suitably underestimated by this cavalier cop. But underestimated, relegated as a something or someone with no real importance - it didn't change Riley's stance.

It didn't matter – Riley's guard was unwavering. He stood ready, poised on the balls of his feet, his own gun pointing squarely at the other man's upper body.

Something in Riley's steely resolve and cold-eyed hold of Ryan in his sights must have nettled the older cop.

"Oh I see. It's like that is it young Officer Riley? Come in here with your guns blazing, want to play the big hero and save your new friend and boss hey? I understand now. Hutchinson's gotten to you too hasn't he? You're as devoted to him as Starsky and he are to each other. "

He swiveled and for a brief moment directed his words at Hutch.

"What is it Hutchinson? What have you got that demands this loyal servitude to you? This undying gratitude and adulation?"

And then once more looking at Riley he scorned.

"Well your big brave Sergeant sure doesn't look like the picture of successful cop right now does he? Look at him! Pathetic. He's a wreck. See, let that be a warning to you young Riley. This is what happens when you let emotions and feelings get in the way of good police work and partnerships. Hutchinson looks like he's in almost as bad a shape as his partner there on the bed.

Fucking devotion! That's where it leads you. You want to end up like this Riley? Like these two? Do you? You obviously must want to because that is why you're here now isn't boy? Devotion. Loyalty. What are you prepared to do with that loyalty Riley?How are you going to use it and how far are you willing to go to save your new partner over here?"

oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooO OOooo


	13. Chapter 13

**Then Neither Can He**

**Chapter 13.**

"So what do you think Detective Sergeant Hutchinson? What do you think about your young protégé just happening in here with his big gun out in front, looking all important and brave?

Another unannounced guest. God! If Starsky and I had known just how in demand our little love fest here tonight was going to be, we would've fucking sold tickets down at the precincts! I had no idea that Starsk and I were so popular out there among the other officers. What do you think Hutchinson? Were you and Starsky ever so popular? I freaking doubt it."

Ryan waved his gun lazily at Hutch now and smirked at the unresponsive blond.

"Oh…looks like your boss there is not feeling so chatty Riley. Maybe he is just mind blown from the show Starsky and I just put on. Or jealous. Sorry kid, but I'm afraid you missed it. Starsky was one hell of a fuck! Oh Christ! What an ass he has…I just had to fuck it till I ran dry. In fact I was just rousing enough to go in for round number three when I heard you arrive at the door."

As abruptly as it had begun the sarcastic sneer and commentary stopped. The mood snapped from taunting torment to dark threat. His black eyes drilled into the younger man's face and his voice cut across the tension hovering between the two of them.

"Lower your gun Riley - and that is an order from a senior officer. Put it down on the ground and kick it my way."

Riley remained still and silent. The pull to turn to Hutch was so overwhelming. The need to seek out some guidance, some direction from those crystal blue eyes that over the past weeks had never failed to reassure him was so strong that he thought his body would betray him and he would turn to look. Hutch's calm watchfulness had held him in his first frightening days on the streets, steadied him when he wanted to turn and run from a dangerous situation.

This time there was no Hutch to depend upon or to protect him from the threat he now faced. His mentor was caught inside the very middle of the threat and Riley had never felt more alone in his life. If he could only look over and see what was in Hutch's face…..

_If you look away for an instant, he'll take you. Hutch would not want you to lose your focus. Eyeball him. Stare him down. Don't let him get under your skin. Let him talk but don't take the bait._

The heat in the room was rising. Riley's studied calm status was unerring and Ryan's face began to show the toll of the standoff.

"I said, put the fucking weapon down Riley. You're not going to shoot me. You know that and I know that. Christ I knew it before you even entered this room. You're a green Rookie with smart ideas lots of aspirations but no real balls, no experience and only a handbook to guide your moves. You're never going to use that gun on me, even if I was to do something to threaten your wonderful Hutch here. You have no idea what real loyalty or real cop partnership work is all about. You came barging in here tonight and ruined my fuck session with Starsky –"

He gestured toward the bed.

"And I'm fucking pissed off with you. So what's it to be Rookie Boy? Gun down or do you want me to wing you for threatening a fellow police officer with a departmental weapon?"

A soft croaking voice reached out, so familiar to Riley's ears it almost had him turning. The word were soft, so soft, almost as though Hutch didn't want to intrude on Riley's concentration, but just gently join with his junior officer in support.

"Riley. No – that's right – do not look at me. Don't turn to me. Listen to me. Steady. Steady and calm. Remember …..Remember what I told you. Just do what I told you and everything will be all right. You know what you have to do."

"Shut the fuck up Hutchinson! Shut your fucking mouth up or I swear I will use this butt on your mouth like I used it on your buddy to shut it for you. And then I might just turn around and put a slug into your little friend for the trouble he has caused me."

With his gun aimed more decisively now at the younger man, Ryan moved closer to Hutch's chair and kicked him savagely in the leg. Hutch squeezed his eyes and grimaced but did not vocalize.

" Put your fucking gun down Riley… next I will sink this gun butt into his head. You want that Riley? You want your wonderful Hutch to hurt some more because you can't follow a simple FUCKING order Rookie?"

"Do not touch him again Ryan. If you touch him again I will shoot."

Thin crazed laughter smashed into the air.

"Are you so dumb? You little fool! You want to be taken down? Is that it? You want to play big hero here tonight for your Sergeant? You had better decide boy and fast, because I'm going to shoot you if you don't do as I say."

Hutch's voice again.

"Riley…"

Ryan whipped his head around in fury to lash out again at Hutch's intrusion and the noise exploded – there was a cracking and splintering sound, plaster flying in the air as the round lodged in the wall. Ryan spun back from his turn toward Hutch and jerked roughly. Shock flooded into his eyes as his left hand swept down to swipe almost disbelieving at his right tricep. A jagged divot marred the smooth skin and within seconds it filled with bright blood, streaming down his naked arm.

Riley took only a moment to reposition his stance and kept his eyes on the now wounded man. His loud breathing was all that betrayed that he had lost any of his concentration on his target.

The gun still hung in Ryan's hand although he had dropped his arm with the impact of the slicing bullet.

His laugh was that of a madman.

"Not good Rookie. Not what we teach you in Street Cop School. You're not supposed to shoot your fellow officers you little pussy. Especially when the senior cop has asked you repeatedly to lower your weapon. Put it down you asshole. You've had you're moment of glory, now pull your fucking head in and do as I say. "

"Last chance Ryan. Not mine. Your last chance. Drop the gun on the floor and move back towards the wall, hands on your head."

"Sorry, but I can't…" Ryan feigned as though he was about to sway and portrayed the appearance of a man about to fall to the side. Riley read his true intentions correctly.

As Ryan jolted back into position with his gun now aimed directly at Riley's chest, Riley fired again. His aim this time was again purposeful, and far more purposefully damaging.

Ryan's gun spun from his hand as his big body flung backwards, staggering and then falling sideways to the floor where he tried to slow his fall with the small coffee table. A low howl flew out of his mouth as he reached for his shoulder, the blood oozing freely. Both shots to his right gun arm, he was effectively disarmed even without his gun, which Riley wasted no time in striding across the room to salvage from the floor. With his own gun still on Ryan's chest, Riley moved sideways and placed the extra gun on the bedside table.

"You little motherfucker. Opening me up with your Rookie gun. Your career is going to be finished you little fucking piece of shit. Get your gun out of my face and get me a towel to staunch this wound."

"Hold your hand on it. I'm not leaving you for a second until you're cuffed and I've called for backup and ambulance assistance. Stand up while you still can and move toward the door. I want you out of this room, and out of their space,"

He motioned his head at Starsky on the bed and Hutch who was watching them both but saying nothing.

" So get up. On your feet Ryan or I'll uncuff Hutch now. I can't be responsible for what will happen to you then."

Riley turned to Hutch.

"I'm sorry Hutch, but I want him out of here before I let you free. I'll get him outside and cuff him and call it in, get the ambulances here as quickly as I can."

His gun motioned Ryan up on to shaky feet and directed him toward the door.

"I promise I'll be as quick as I can and let you out of that chair, but I can't risk losing control of the two of you."

He was seeking no affirmation from his senior. This was his own decision and he was not seeking Hutch's acquiescence.

Ryan needed to be contained quickly and to be removed from what could quickly develop into a lethally violent situation if he failed to follow his own judgment.

"Get him out of him Riley. Secure him well and call in back up straight away….but Riley….please hurry….Starsky….I need to get to Starsky. "

The choked words twisted Riley's guts.

"Outside Ryan, move!" Riley voice had raised to a yell, no longer tentative.

"You little prick! Another one of Hutchinson's boys. Should have taken you down as soon as you put your stupid fucking face inside the door. Now Hutchinson – look. Look what you have in these two. You have a partner fucked up the ass by me and your kid here is going to be fucked up plenty for using his own weapon on another officer."

"Get him - out - of my sight. Please Riley – now…"

Hutch followed them with his eyes until Riley had prodded the wounded and unsteady Ryan out of the doorway. When Ryan's back had finally disappeared from view, he sucked in a massive breath, gasped back and gasped again. For the first time in hours he had managed to breathe deeply.

His eyes fixed on the broken body on the bed, still totally motionless and quiet. He would not take his eyes away from him –holding him in his sights is all he could do until he was freed to move.

That is how Riley found him – staring with unbearable anguish at body on the bed. He slipped back quietly into the room and knelt carefully beside the chair where Hutch was cuffed. Riley could feel his own sweat prickling his forehead and back and the post adrenalin rush shaking was coming on. He had isolated and secured Ryan. Help was on its way. Starsky and Hutch were alive.

More sweat poured onto his young brow.

_Hell did I do all of that?_

"I need your key Hutch. The key?"

He patted down Hutch's pockets for his keys and wasn't sure Hutch was even totally aware of him doing so.

"Hutch…..Hutch."

When had he started calling him by that name and not Ken, or Sir? He couldn't be entirely sure, but it fell comfortingly off his tongue and made him feel closer to his senior.

The bedraggled man looked down at him now, his blue eyes clearing but his body tensing as Riley moved to undo the bonds.

"I'm undoing you but…I'm asking you, please – don't go to Ryan. He's secured outside in the other room. I've called for backup. When I let you go – don't go to him. I can't be put in a position where I may need to stop you from trying to hurt him. I just can't deal with that…don't make me deal with that Hutch."

The sad handsome face looked at him and he closed his eyes wearily.

"All I want is to be with Starsky. Uncuff me now Riley. I give you my word I won't go to Ryan until I tell you I am. "

Riley nodded. Good enough for him. Hutch's word was good enough.

The cuffs snapped open and Hutch winced heavily as he drew his arms around slowly to the front of his body. His bloody wrists were torn and scraped, but ignoring their state, Hutch took a moment to seize one of Riley arms.

"Riley. I need you to leave me now. Go outside with Ryan and wait for the others. I need these first minutes with Starsky alone. OK?"

"Of course Hutch. I understand."

"Let me know when the backup or ambulances get here – they'll be a while this far out. Get me when you hear them arrive. I need to do – something – before they come in. All right?"

Riley nodded and stood to leave.

Hutch was already at Starsky's side when he closed the door behind him.

oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooO OOooo

He lowered his tired body so gently onto the bed, settling with infinitive care as if the slightest movement of the mattress might frighten Starsky afresh. It was important that the first awareness of a body once more beside him on this bed was that it was his and not Ryan's.

Shaking violently now he ever so gently lifted his hand, bloodied by his own wrists wounds, to touch the side of the bruised face. He had managed to this point, to get his hand to make contact with a body so broken that he was not sure where to touch it for fear of inflicting more pain. But that was as far as he could get before it hit him like a road train and he withdrew in to himself quickly to curb what he couldn't afford to let out yet. Not now, not yet. Too much to do, to take care of, to put back together.

The storm within him had to stay where it was for to let it out would be the end of him.

Having laid his touch onto Starsky's face he hope that his partner could sense that it was him who was touching him now, him beside him on the bed.

_No more Ryan Starsky. Ryan is gone._

His body was still unresponsive and his breathing shallow and raspy. He needed to get the bound hands down from the bedhead without alarming him and he knew that the resulting pain when he freed the caught arms would be terrible.

Unclicking the lock on the cuffs, he freed one hand and caught it gently in his own. Slowly he supported the bloodless arms as he disengaged them from the bedhead and with measured steps lowered them from their suspended position. As he did he rubbed at them gently trying to get some circulation back into the mottled extremities.

_So much blood on the outside of his wrists and hands and so little on the inside. _

Now that he was here, finally beside his friend, able to touch and see him clearly rather than struggle to view him from his chair, the proximity was unbearable. The sight of what Ryan had done to this person closest to him in his life was more, far more than he could absorb.

There was only just so much the mind could take. Hutch thought that his had reached its limit a long while ago and now there was nowhere to put all of this horror that was in front of him. What could he do with all of this? With the agony of what his friend had endured. In the past he had always been the receptacle for Starsky's pain. Never had he failed to absorb Starsky's suffering. Always he had taken it in and held it, shared it with him like a worry half shared, just as Starsky had always done for him too.

But this. This was too much. How could he even begin to make any of this better when the damage was so diffuse, so wide spread and deep? Like a contagion Hutch knew that in the days and weeks to come the damage would spread further, it would overtake both of them if it already hadn't.

Trying to carefully gather his friend into his arms he flashbacked to all the other times he had finally found or got to Starsky to find him alive and safe and would similarly gather him up into his grateful embrace.

Even in that terror filled moment when he arrived on the scene to find Starsky wounded and beaten in the alley, with a knife wound as a souvenir from Ryan, it had been relief. Relief that the search was over, the fear was surpassed, Starsky might be wounded and hurt but he was alive and back with him.

Would the man in his arms now ever be back with him again? Yes there was relief that Riley had overpowered Ryan and Starsky was still alive. He had him now. He was safe. But Hutch had been the witness to it all and he doubted whether Starsky would ever be truly safe again.

Trying to find a section of sheet that was not too soiled he pulled it free enough to wrap over Starsky's lower body and punching the bloodied pillow off the bed he pulled his damp head onto his lap, cushioning him as best he could while still rubbing slowing at the cold arms.

"Anytime you want to wake up now Starsk you can because I'm here with you. He's gone Starsk, he's gone and I'm here now. He's not coming back. I'm here waiting for you whenever you want to come back. Ok? . Take as long as you need…."

Was this enough? So very little to offer him, so very little in the face of so much taken away.

It had to be enough, because it was all he had.

He would make it enough.

A few moments later he heard the light rap on the bedroom door but he was already alerted as he had heard the distant wail of the ambulance.

"Come in Riley."

"Ah Hu…..Sir…."

He saw the two of them together finally and instantly he stammered with his senior's nickname. The gravity that hit him when he opened the door was so forceful that he no longer felt ok about using Starsky's preferred name for his partner. The picture they presented, one blond head lowered and looking down on a dark head that lay cushioned against the other's chest - spoke of their inherent closeness.

Not until this point had Riley truly understood the strength of what they shared. He didn't want to be an intruder, he shouldn't feel like one – but standing there now, outside of this perfect circle of oneness , he knew that he was one.

If he had ever doubted Hutch's kindness that modicum of doubt was now forever removed from his mind. Hutch could have easily dismissed his junior's presence, shown him disregard and antipathy for breaking into this crucial time with Starsky. A short span of time that Riley understood was almost sacred, ceremonial to the two men.

But he didn't. Hutch did not demean him in any way or make him feel any less important than he himself was to what was happening to them.

"Don't Riley. Don't go back to calling me anything but Hutch. I want you to call me Hutch. You're our partner now, Starsky's and mine. You saved him Riley. You found us and saved him. Thank you."

When the light blue eyes smiled softly at him Riley thought he had never felt so proud.

"Now - are they coming?"

For one moment Riley was lost in thought so filled up with the warmth of Hutch's words.

" Ah…..yes…yes they are. I got a call they're only a minute or two away – the medics."

"I need you to stay with him. Just sit here carefully and wait. I will only be a moment and I'll be back. There's something I need to do before anyone comes in."

Quickly now he moved from the bed and outside to the next room. The sirens were very close now.

Ryan was propped up against the wall where Riley had cuffed him to a heavy antique dresser. There was little time to evaluate his condition, his mood or his possible reaction to him, not that he cared to. Hutch looked down at the the shocky looking man who held a bloodstained towel to his shoulder and arm wound. Blood loss had weakened him but he was still alert and his black eyes centered on Hutch as soon as he knelt beside him.

The tight mouth contorted preparing for speech but Hutch cut him off savagely with an arm pressed so tight against his windpipe his eyes quickly bulged and watered.

"Save your breath Ryan, you'll need it. The backups arriving and I may not see you again for a while. So I have to give you this before they take you."

Hutch leaned in closer, his face up against the bruised dark one of his worst enemy. His words were a low hiss, gravelled now with his hoarseness.

"It's a promise. A very special promise just for you Ryan. It's only a matter of time. Time. When that time is right for me, I will come to you Ryan. I will come to you and I will kill you. Nobody or nothing will stop me from doing that, from keeping that promise to you. The only thing that will save you from me killing you is if Starsky choses to do it himself."

The sound of the ambulances pulling into the drive outside and the raised voices of extra police backup filled the house.

He released his pressure on Ryan's throat and was pleased to see him cough convulsively.

Before standing up Hutch leaned over him. He pushed the sodden towel aside, revealing the gunshot wound in his shoulder. As Ryan's eyes widened, anticipating the blond's intention, Hutch smiled a little. His hand reached over and with a raw savageness he pressed down hard on the oozing wound, digging his fingers into the ragged hole.

Ryan jumped and screamed out, kicking his legs at Hutch.

"Just as well the medics are here for you Ryan. It looks like that shoulder wound is bleeding again."

He picked up the discarded towel and wiped his bloody fingers on the dry corner, hurling it in Ryan's face as he turned away from him.

Before the front door was filled with the onslaught of medics and uniformed police, Hutch retreated to the bedroom.

"Riley they're out there now. Can you deal with them until Ryan is taken away?"

Hutch crossed to the bed and Riley looked up.

"I think he may be starting to rouse Hutch. Don't worry I'll see that Ryan gets taken out of here as soon as I can arrange it."

Hutch looked down at Starsky and could see that Riley was correct. He was starting to move his body a little. With the sounds of the ambulance arriving in the next room Hutch knew that it was only a matter of time before they would come in to Starsky.

In the plush bathroom he dampened down a thick towel and returned quickly to the bed. With probing fingers he found the open cut in the curly hair but the blood had crusted and was no longer bleeding. More of a concern was the knife wound. It's appearance alarmed him too much to risk touching it. Flaming red now and swollen it's tight thin skin was stretched with the underlying bruises and blood that had pooled there. It would be best to leave it to the professionals. With the cool towel he applied a compress to the livid bruises now forming long tentacles across and around Starsky's throat. His face too was badly bruised and he alternated with touching the damp cool towel to his blazing cheekbone and back to his neckline.

_There is so little I can really do for you. Too much to take care of Starsk. Too much of you hurt._

With one free hand he tucked the sheets more securely over his friend's legs and pelvis. He could not begin to think about the damage that lay beneath the sheet's surface.

A soft knock heralded Riley's return.

"Hutch…the medics want to come in and take a look at Starsky. The second ambulance is here now."

"Ryan?"

"They're still working on him, it won't be long though. They'll be taking him to the nearest big hospital with an emergency department. Patrols here too and they will accompany the ambulance down the beach highway. Ah – Hutch – they need to come in now ok?"

"Alright, let them in."

Two men and a woman entered the room carrying medical kits. From the bed Hutch could see the waiting trolley with the white and blue linen. The trolley that would carry Starsky away.

This was always the damnedest part of it. It was like wanting to reach out and pull in the professional help, the best and the fastest to take away the fear of one of them suffering for any longer than necessary. And then at the same time there was the push to keep anyone and everyone away from the hurt and traumatized body that the other was guarding.

Push and pull.

_Come here quickly please. Help me to help him. No you can't have him, you can't take him and you cannot send me away._

This time around the latter was winning the battle and Hutch wanted to push them all away. So much had been "done" to his partner he couldn't abide another hand but his touching or probing him. None of them would be able to help him after all. Sure they could lessen his physical pain in the short-term, but Starsky was in agony from a far deeper, greater pain that no amount of medicine was going to ease.

The usual verbal transactions ensued. Careful with their moves and their words they knew a lot about trauma along every part of the spectrum – mental, physical and psychological and it didn't take long to sum up where Hutch stood on the treatment spectrum.

He was the key. Without his co-operation there could so easily be an outburst that would only hamper their efforts to help and treat the patient.

Initially he baulked. He knew intellectually he had to defer to this, to them, to medicine. But his mind was having more problems than usual with letting go of his central control of his friend.

"HUTCH!"

His head shot up to the forceful sound of his name, as he was looking increasingly distressed as two of the medics began to remove the sheet from Starsky's legs.

Riley was standing close to him and had reached over to touch his head.

"Hutch, you have to let them look at him. You have to move away now. Just for a little while. Nothing's going to happen without you knowing. They're not going to take him away without you knowing. Let go now Hutch and come over here so the other medic can examine your wrists."

In the end of course he capitulated and kicked his cop sense into overdrive. In the end his fear for Starsky's wellbeing overrode his own fear of delivering his partner into someone else's care other than his own. In the end, he listened to Riley whose voice was so different to how it had ever sounded before.

Riley had dragged in a single-seater sofa from the outside living room and was now coaxing Hutch toward it.

Slowly the words penetrated and he relinquished Starsky's side to the two medics who were already drawing up syringes when they had caught side of the angry surgical wound and the heavy blood stains under his pelvis.

Hutch stood slowly and moved away from the bed. He looked at Riley. He looked at the single-seater sofa chair from the other room. He understood why Riley had dragged it in here.

The offending chair where Hutch had spent horrific hours cuffed to was now kicked to the side. The chair beside the bed where Ryan had laid his clothes was also out of the picture . Riley had pushed it up against the bed head wall.

Hutch swallowed. The kid had the foresight to realize that he would not want to be anywhere near either of those two seats again and yet also that he would need to remain in this room as close to Starsky as possible.

_Where had this man come from? Where had the boy of yesterday gone? _

_ Such a stupid question._

Hutch berated himself quickly. He knew the answer of course.

The Riley that had addressed him so authoritatively, the man who now looked at him with stern but caring eyes, had come from life's bad experiences. Ryan had effectively stripped away all Riley's remnants of innocence, boyishness and unconditional trust in others.

In saving Starsky Riley had stepped over the line between boy and man.


	14. Chapter 14

**Then Neither Can He**

**Chapter 14**

He watched the bed as the paramedic lightly dressed his wrists. Words that were spoken to him were only half heard. A nod was summoned up from somewhere – it was all he had the energy for when it came to communicating to anyone else.

Riley had left the room again once he had convinced Hutch to move away from Starsky and get his own wounds attended to by the medic. The sounds from the next room drifted in and Hutch tried to filter out the baritone voice as it answered the medic's questions. The deep resonance of the voice sounded groggy and disoriented.

Hutch only wished that there was no voice at all, no mouth to give a voice, no body to produce it.

He wished Ryan dead.

Couldn't they just take him away? Couldn't someone make him go from here so that he never had to hear his silky voice again or see those dark eyes under that black hair swept high off his regal forehead?

With his eyes never wavering from the bed where his partner lay – barely responsive, Hutch willed the sounds and sights of Ryan out of his head.

"Detective Hutchinson?"

The medic hovering over Starsky was talking to him.

"We're going to get your partner into the ambulance now. There's not much more we can do here and this wound needs surgical treatment as soon as we can get him to an Emergency department. We've called ahead and let them know about his status. Ventura is where we'll head to."

"Is he…you gave him those needles… for his pain?"

He was standing close again and looking down at his partner as they packed away their equipment. Their presence was reassuring but invasive at the same time and Hutch fought against the impulse to shoulder them away from Starsky. He settled instead for standing close and holding one of his hands, his own bandaged wrist holding Starsky's bandaged wrist and hand. Both of them bearing the marks of Ryan's sick infliction.

"Yes. That pain relief should be kicking in well by now. Unfortunately we can't give him anything too much stronger as he is already unresponsive. We can't sedate him too heavily."

"He – he hasn't come to at all very much. I don't think he wants to…."

The voice that came from him was without strength.

"It's part of the shock of the assault. He'll come to the surface soon. I think you need to go back and sit down Detective. You're not steady yourself and we don't want you hitting the floor."

"I need to be next to him. That's just the way it is."

The medic sighed and exchanged looks with the other one.

"Ok but then you need to sit down. We'll get packed up and get him on the stretcher trolley."

They moved away to do what they needed to do and Hutch went back to looking at the silent Starsky.

Riley came back into the room. He had taken the role of coordinator upon himself. This was new to him. He would have always deferred to his senior and waited to be directed. There was no one to direct him now.

His senior's last modicum of strength had been drained from him in his private interchange with Ryan outside in the hall. It didn't take too much imagination on Riley's part to figure what form the interchange might have taken. Since he'd come back to Starsky's side Hutch's apathy was grinding him to a stop. He was barely functioning apart from keeping vigil over his partner.

"I'm heading in to follow Ryan's ambulance to Ventura. The other black and white will meet me there too. I've asked them to leave you alone until we get to the hospital and get Starsky seen. Ok Hutch? Probably better that we are heading to Ventura – smaller hospital than Memorial."

Hutch knew what he meant – less likelihood of dealing with medical staff that knew them and the information getting back to the precinct.

"Dobey?"

"I've called him and he's going to meet us there when he gets up here."

The events of the night were going to rock their Captain.

Riley studied Hutch's face. The vacant haunted features appalled him, his hand clasped tightly onto his partners. Did his own face show such evidence of strain? Everything had happened so fast he hadn't even begun to process what his own place in the drama was going to mean to him. On this night he had purposely shot a fellow officer. Would he ever have conceived of such a traumatic experience so early in his career? What would it mean for his career and how he viewed himself?

But as he stood aside for the medics to transfer Starsky from the bed to the stretcher, he pushed away any self-analysis.

"Alright Hutch? I'll see you next at the hospital. Remember, one step at a time. That's how you'll get through this. First step is getting him to the hospital."

As he left the two men behind him and walked back to the group of people outside, Riley thought about how many steps the two partners would need to take over the next weeks and months and how really difficult it was going to be for them both.

The first step had barely been negotiated and Hutch looked like he had nothing left to give.

oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOooo

Dobey was waiting and walked over toward Riley as the young officer lead the way into the reception area with two other local officers beside him. He was deep in discussion with them and at first Dobey did not recognize him as the young boy who had been riding beside Hutch in the past weeks. His face had a harder edge to it and he looked years older than when he had last seen him only yesterday.

_So much can happen in less than twenty-four hours…._

"What the hell has gone on here? Where's Hutchinson?"

"He's riding in the ambulance with Starsky. They're unloading him out in the bay now. Ryan's already been taken into the emergency bay and I imagine he'll be lining up for OR soon."

"Riley I need some facts here, some details. How did all of this happen? Four officers in a location miles from their duty base – a shooting and an assault. I want some answers here! Where the hell is Hutchinson – I need to talk to him.. Dobson's on his way up here now too. This is a total mess."

"It is Captain. It _is_ a total mess and that is why we need to handle this all very carefully. First up I need you to inform these local Ventura officers that they can't interview Hutch just yet. We need to get a room somewhere where you, him and I can talk. He needs to be somewhere private."

Riley lowered his voice. "I think you'll find he's not in very good shape Sir."

Some of the hot blustering went out of the Captain's voice and he scrubbed his face in his characteristic way. Nothing was ever easy when his two main Detectives were in a hospital setting. Those occasions were just too damn frequent for his stress levels to handle.

"I know my Detectives well enough Riley and if they're bringing Starsky in on a stretcher than I also know damn well that Hutch won't be too happy. Ok I hear you. You go see how its going out there and I'll talk to our two friends over here, see if I can hold them off till I know myself what the hell has gone on to turn everything upside down since I left the station earlier this evening."

Dobey cast his eyes around the quiet entrance area to the moderately sized hospital. The main reception area was bare of people and almost eerily quiet. Nothing like Memorial. Even at this late hour it would be a hive of activity. He was grateful that the location and size of this hospital afforded him and his officer some much needed privacy.

oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOooo

Riley found Hutch standing uselessly next to the trolley that they had just rolled out of the back of the ambulance. His arms were up again, one rubbing at the forearm of the other as he walked slowly beside the trolley. There were faint traces of blood staining through the white bandages around his wrists, but it was his forearm that was once again getting all the attention as he worked away at it with grim agitation.

He was a man lost with no idea which way to turn.

The medics reached the swing doors to the Emergency Bay and Riley waited as a head nurse, or at least someone with an air of authority about her, approached Hutch and spoke quietly to him.

The slumped shoulders and nodding of his head signified to Riley that this time Hutch wasn't putting up a fight about needing to stay with Starsky. It looked thought Riley, like he had all but given up on fighting the system.

Once the nurse had left Riley walked up to him and reached out for his shoulder. In the past days this had become almost natural to the younger man. Once he would have questioned himself on what possible support he could provide for his older hardened senior officer. Now he didn't even hesitate to offer what he had to him and sensed that it was accepted with quiet gratitude.

"They'll take good care of him Hutch. And you need to stay out here and get yourself sorted out."

"I feel so fucking useless Riley. I am so fucking useless. He's not even talking, maybe he doesn't want to be near me after what Ryan …. There's nothing I can do to help him right now and I'm scared of fucking it up anyway. When he wakes up or talks – what will I say Riley? It's not like he's been shot or stabbed – its different to anything we've ever – I'm just so scared of saying something that will make it worse for him now. Never felt like this – always wanted to be beside him to say the right things when he woke. But this time, there's no right things to say."

"Hutch when he wants to wake up and talk there's only one person he'll be able to do that with and that's you. You'll have the right words or maybe no words. It doesn't matter what you say or don't. It's just that you'll be there. You. That's what you have to offer him. That's by far enough."

With more confidence then he felt in his resolve, Riley pulled Hutch's arm's apart to stop the incessant rubbing that he had come to recognize as Hutch's self-harming behavior. He kept a steady hold of his arms and shook his head firmly at the distressed face.

"No. Stop. Don't do that to yourself. You want Starsky to wake up and see that you've done that? He'll only have more to worry about.

It's different this time Hutch because you've been through it all too – just like Starsky, except you couldn't go away in your head like he did. So it's even worse for you. That's why you feel so terrible and so useless. You've got no strength left to give."

The sad smile warmed Riley again as his partner seemed to listen intently to his words. His words. Riley's words that had never counted for much before amongst surly disillusioned cops soured by the system with whom Riley had been paired since graduation. He'd learned to shut up and hold his own opinions and thoughts in the first weeks on the job. But this man, for whatever reason, seemed to value what he had to say, value his input and most importantly value his support.

Hutch sighed and shoved his willful hands into his back pockets where they were likely to do less harm.

"I'm started to feel a little confused here about who's teaching whom what. You seem to have all the answers and all the moves tonight."

"Of course I do! That's because I've had the best teacher and role model a Rookie could hope to have as his trainer. Now come on, you need to wash up, get some fresh coffee and meet Dobey who's doing his 'trying not to look worried act' by blowing a lot of steam and hot air around. "

"Sounds like you've even got our Captain worked out. What do they teach you guys in the Academy these days anyway? When Starsk and I were…"

He pulled himself up mid sentence and looked toward the swing doors of the Emergency Bay.

"Hutch come with me now. By the time we've debriefed with Dobey and had a coffee or two you'll probably be allowed to see him again. Come on – maybe you can fill me on some stories of how it was when you old guys went through the Academy."

Finally he received a smile that had some bite to it as Hutch's face lit up more than it had in a long while.

"Yeah? Don't start us. Starsky will never shut up…Ok coffee and Dobey. Officer Riley - Sir."

Riley gave him his bravest smile back in return. Worried now about what lay ahead for him and Internal Affairs, the smile took as much effort to produce as he suspected Hutch's had taken.

Good feelings were not freely in abundance for the two of them tonight.

oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOooo

Dobey was good for his word and managed to secure a small side room with an examination bed and a small treatment table with two chairs.

Riley allowed the two senior officers to take the chairs, coffees on the table while he leaned against the wall.

Dobey had said little when Hutch first walked up him outside of the room. In his fatherly way he had quietly laid his big pudgy hand across his shoulder and looked hard at him with a heavy brow.

He was shocked by Hutch's appearance and even more shocked by his body language. The icy blue eyes were dull and sunken, his halo of blond hair lay flat against his head, lank and darkened by sweat and his tall lean frame seemed to be bent in on itself. His clothes were sweat soaked and as Dobey moved in closer to him he caught the stench of stale vomit and saw the dried stains of bile on his shirt. Blood soaked bandages adorned his wrists.

_Dear Lord, he looks worse than when Starsky was helping him get off the heroin._

"Drink your coffee Hutch. You need some food? I've ordered in some sandwiches and another pot of fresh coffee. Good people here – very helpful. Said to let you know you can use that bed there for some shut-eye and there are showers up the hall. Towels too –there on the bed."

Small talk dispensed with Dobey squirmed a little and coughed lightly. No delaying it anymore.

"We need to go over this Hutch. The local boys from Ventura want to talk to you – they've got a statement already from Riley here, but obviously they need something from you too. We're out of our jurisdiction here. You know they have to – they don't know you and Starsky, even if your reputation has travelled this far north – maybe further afield knowing you two boys…."

"It's Ok Captain. Its ok, I'll talk to them."

He could tell that Dobey was anxious, unsure, over talking. Dobey never over talked. He was trying to fill the void in this quiet, small room.

"No Hutch, the Ventura boys can wait. Lets start at the beginning and ….hell Hutch! What went on tonight that has left Ryan with two bullet wounds from your own Rookie, Starsky lined up for OR again and you looking like death warmed up?"

Riley would have thought there was not enough of anything left in Hutch to even begin to piece the story together. When Hutch began to rebuke his Captain like he did he was shocked by his sudden outburst.

For a few moments the white-hot Hutchinson temper flared and his finger shot out at Dobey.

"You want to know what the hell happened? I'll tell you. It was just like I warned you. Warned you and that idiot Dobson! Ryan is a madman."

"Hutch….Captain Dobey is not responsible –"

"Stay out of this Riley. I need to say this. I've carried this grievance around with me for weeks now Captain – and its got to come out. You and Dobson made a mistake with that operation. Starsky should have been pulled and you know it. I think if we'd gotten him out and away from Ryan this whole sick relationship Ryan has in his head for Starsky might have been stopped from going this far. He has escalated since that attack on Starsky in the alley and his badge should be on Dobson's desk. He's been walking around the streets of this city as a fucking law enforcer and the department has let him.

Tonight he attacked Starsky. He raped him, beat him and raped him again. I was made to watch the whole fucking sordid performance. Starsky has retreated somewhere in his head which is probably more fucked up now then his body. I'm not feeling too good myself after having been cuffed to a fucking chair while my partner was sodomized repeatedly in front of me. While I was totally useless to help him, to do anything to stop that deranged pervert. Can you imagine what it was like Captain? To watch your best friend get ripped apart by a crazed maniac who happens to be a fellow officer? What he did to Starsky was animalistic and I can't imagine how its going to leave him.

Riley, God knows how, I still don't know the full story – blasted his way in and shot the motherfucker up just enough to put him out of action. Otherwise Ryan was going to shoot him– or possibly me. Riley did well, except I wished I'd taught him to blow heads off and not go for the wing. If Riley had not arrived when he did, I'm not sure I'd be sitting here right now or that Starsky would be in the Emergency Room. Ryan was so out of control he may well have killed us both.

Is that clear enough for you Captain? There's plenty more details if you want them. You can always have a look at Starsky's body for some more graphic evidence. Ryan's handiwork is brutal. But that's the gist of it.

Ryan should have been stopped weeks ago – should have been hauled in by IA, by Dobson – shit by you even. But none of you did anything.

And that's why we're here tonight. Because that psychopath still carries a badge and Starsky doesn't."

He shoved the chair back, took two big strides toward the bed, snagged the towel and stormed toward the door.

"Pardon me Captain but I'm going to wash the stink of Ryan off my body. If I don't I 'm afraid I'll puke my guts up all over again."


	15. Chapter 15

**Then Neither Can He**

**Chapter 15**

The door slammed in the wake of Hutch's violent departure and Dobey sat unmoving in his chair his face registering the shock of his Detective's stinging words. He looked down, eyes focused on the small table trying to gather back some semblance of himself as one does when something left of centre hits. His detective had just verbally whipped him , slapped him hard with blame-tainted accusations.

One man who he had never thought would deliver such an unwanted parcel of emotion to him had placed the wearisome burden of guilt at his feet. Guilt was Hutch's own personal specialty. Over the years Dobey had watched him take on personal responsibility for just about every bad situation that had befallen him and Starsky. Hutch had mastered emotional slow suffering by self-inflicted guilt and in doing so he hoped to spare everyone around him ownership of anything painful.

Dobey had often wondered why the blond detective was like this. What might have occurred in his early life to form the sort of person , develop the frame of mind of a man who blotted up guilt like some human emotional sponge? He knew that Starsky battled with his partner's guilt trips too – trying to balance out his partner's self defeating need to own the problem for everything that was bad or sour in their lives.

But never, or at least not in his memory had he felt the wrath of Hutch leveling guilt squarely at him. Not like this – so bitterly and so directly. Captains were not immune to being culpable or for making mistakes and God knew he had made enough of them himself over the years. But that was not the issue here. He was old enough and wise enough to admit to any fallibility. He was also human enough and respected his two detectives and the relationship he shared with them enough - to be profoundly affected by Hutch's condemnation of him.

"He's hurting you know that. He doesn't know what to do with the hurt."

Riley's voice jolted him. He had almost forgotten the boy was still in the room with him.

The boy, the man – Dobey had reassessed how he saw this young Rookie in the last hour or so – had a strong affinity with Hutchinson. It was there in the room between them whenever they were together. Not so strong nor of the same intensity or exclusiveness as the connection between Starsky and Hutchinson, but a connection nonetheless. Hutch valued this young man and showed him a level of tolerance and patience that Dobey did not often see in the frequently taciturn introspective detective. Hutchinson had as a rule unlimited patience and unconditional tolerance for only one other person, and that was Starsky.

"He blames me for what has happened to Starsky."

"He blames himself. He has blamed himself every step of the way. There is just too much guilt for him to take in and too much anger. You and Captain Dobson are just diffusers for his anger and his own guilt."

"Are you trying to make me feel less guilty here Riley?"

"No. Only you can do that Sir. I'm just making an observation about Hutch, trying to understand what he's going through. I don't think Sir, with all due respect, you can quite fathom how traumatic tonight really was – and I'm saying that as someone who came in on the scene once it was nearly all over. Your two detectives aren't going to be able to get over this case easily. None of us will. And, Sir…along the way I think you'll be seeing a lot more of these sorts of outbursts from Hutch. This – whatever it was tonight and has been in the last weeks with Ryan, has been – well enough to bring him to the edge. He's been holding it all together for a while now – for Starsky. But tonight – "

"You know what Riley?"

"Sir?"

"As your Captain I could say that your comments are out of line and that despite the fact that you were directly involved with tonight's drama, that I don't take kindly to you preaching to me about my own men -"

"Point taken Sir."

"Let me finish officer. But I'm not going to say that Riley. I'm going to say you've done well tonight – you've obviously not only saved the men from further trauma – possibly as Hutchinson has said, saved their lives, but you have been a great support for Hutchinson. You understand him, he seems to respect and like you, so I value your opinion. "

Riley just nodded. Captain Dobey's words would have had him reeling with boyish joy a few days ago – maybe even yesterday.

But this night had opened his eyes to the harsh reality of mankind and it had broken all records for his self growth – both good and bad aspects. He wondered a little sadly why major traumatic events kicked naiveté's ass straight into hardened maturity.

Dobey was giving his customized smiling scowl.

"Now can you go and check on him and see if you can get him prepared to give his statement to the Ventura Police. I think at the moment it is best if I give him some space. And now I really need another coffee….."

oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOooo

The shower room was empty but there was a dry towel that looked like it had just been flung roughly to the floor. Hutch hadn't showered. Then where had he gone?

In a sinking moment Riley knew. He turned, pushed out of the shower room and sprinted up the hall back to the area where the ambulances had dropped off the two injured men.

Riley saw him as soon as he rounded the corner of the area in front of the Emergency Bay. He had left Dobey and gone to the shower room intending to do as Dobey had requested and see how Hutch was progressing.

Raised voices of medical staff were intermingled with Hutch's shouts. The two uniformed Ventura boys were holding on to Hutch and pulling him back from a curtained off cubicle as two nurses and a doctor were bending over the agitated and struggling patient on the bed. Ryan.

The doctor looked up and saw Riley.

"Get him out of here now! He cannot come in here and upset the patient like this – we're preparing to take this man up to OR. Your colleague is highly distressed officer. Please remove him from these treatment areas."

"Get your fucking hands off me will you!"

Hutch shoved viciously at the two uniforms.

One of the officers looked over at Riley.

"He lost control and forced his way in to the emergency bay here and went for Lancaster. You're going to have to get him to settle down or we'll have to restrain him."

"It's ok – I'll handle him. Just let's get him out of here so they can move Ryan out on the OR trolley."

The two officers continued to hold onto Hutch as they walked him out of the treatment area and back into the main entrance.

Riley motioned for one of the officers to let go his grip and he himself put a restraining hand on Hutch's arm.

"Hutch are you going to stop? Are you going to remain here and not try to go back to Ryan? If you don't then these officers will need to cuff you and you can't have those wrists cuffed again so the only alternative will be that they will take you out of here –out of the hospital Hutch. You won't be near Starsky. Is that what you want?"

The words sank in and Hutch stopped struggling and hissing at the two officers.

"No one is removing me from this hospital. No one you hear me? I'm not leaving that fucking lowlife in the same building as Starsky! Riley call them off."

"Your word Hutch – or it'll be into the patrol car."

Hutch nodded.

"Good. Let him be. I'll talk to him and then I know you need his statement. Just wait till he calms down and we can meet in the side room we have down the hall."

The officers both moved away from the worn down detective.

"We'll be up outside the OR with Lancaster in case he makes a break for it again. Let us know when you're ready Detective. Hutchinson. We will need that statement soon and we need you to keep your distance from Detective Lancaster. As your officer here has said – next time – we have to pull you off someone it'll be to escort you down to our precinct."

The Ventura Officer looked at Riley and Hutch.

"And – look we don't want to have to do that. "

Riley watched them walk away before he turned back to him.

"Well you obviously never took that shower did you? Why did you do that Hutch? You're only making matters worse for yourself?"

"How the hell do you imagine I can make matters any worse for myself Riley? "

"By trying to threaten and hurt Ryan now. He needs to be handled properly by the authorities, by our department and by the law. Going for his throat now will jeopardize the chances we have to get some justice served up for what he's done. Trying to beat his head in will only end up with you being the one on the other side of the bars."

"And you seriously think I care about that?"

"No I'm sure you don't. Not right at this minute when you are so full of rage and violence . But in a day or two or whenever Starsky gets cleared medically he is going to need you. You'll be pretty useless to him if you're inside a jail cell up here in Ventura. "

The snarling retaliation was not unexpected. Riley sensed that he had pushed him to the very end of his fuse.

Hutch didn't touch him – his speciality for slicing deep with words and icy blue eyes rendered physical actions unnecessary. Hutchinson cold wrath left a burn down anyone's resilience. So far Riley had never been the recipient, but he knew his serving was long overdue on this long stressful night.

"Oh why don't you just shut the fuck up Riley. I'm so tired of your rational, homely little speeches and psychological clichés. You can't make it alright Riley. You just can't. And I'm fucking sick of your attempts to glue me back together ."

"Then stop breaking yourself apart and I won't need to try so hard!"

The words were loud and forceful.

"Consider this Hutch. You're not the only person who's tired and fed up. Feel free to sabotage your position with Ryan – I'll leave it to the other cops to deal with your choice if you decide to try to get to him again."

"Riley you have never ….you can't conceive how it feels to want to seek revenge – to make someone pay –"

"Ryan, Hutch, Ryan. Say his name. To make Ryan pay – you're so incensed now you can't even talk about him as a person."

"He's not a person, he's a filthy motherfucking bastard. And I will kill him…"

"Maybe you can storm the OR this time and smash his brains in while he's unconscious. And while you're worrying about doing that – and wrecking your whole life - your own partner doesn't even figure in your plans. Maybe, just maybe, Starsky wants something salvageable from all of this – to get on with life."

"I'm not ruining _his_ life by wanting Ryan dead!"

"Well Hutch – Sir – that is about the most stupid thing I have heard you say to me since we met. And here I was thinking there was nothing you didn't know about life and the streets. Maybe you still do have some things to learn about life, but I really thought you knew all there was to know about your partner."

Spinning on his heel, he walked away.

"Riley wait!"

He stopped.

"Riley –"

He waited.

"You know I don't mean what I said. I'm sure you know that."

He turned.

"Of course I know that Hutch. But right now you just seem to want to go around systematically lashing out at everyone who stands in the way of you destroying Ryan. You can blame Dobey and Dobson and me and most of all yourself – but none of that is going to make anything better for Starsky – or for you. Ryan has taken you apart bit by bit. I'm not trying to glue you together Hutch. I'm just trying to stop you helping him to break you completely apart. That's a hard enough job believe me. Putting you all back together is way beyond a Rookie's capabilities don't you know that?"

He smiled now.

Hutch smiled back.

"Oh, I'm not so sure. My particular Rookie seems to be multi skilled and too smart for his own damn good. He's proven to me he's capable of one hell of a lot of things I never gave him credit for. Like putting me in my place ."

The awkward moment – the heated moment was fading.

"And your Rookie has another skill. The skill of knowing when someone needs to shower. You stink Hutch. A lot. Go clean up. Your towel should still be in the cubicle where you threw it."

Hutch laughed just a little.

"See, too smart for his own good. All right, I'll have that damn shower you smart mouthed Rookie. "

oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooO OOoooOOOooo

The shower helped as showers often tended to. Dirt, sweat, dried vomit and blood swirled down the drain and pounding biting needles of warm water broke through deadened senses or calmed heightened, hypersensitive ones.

He really wasn't sure what his body senses were signaling to him now – his whole self seemed not to be part of his brain anymore. Dissociation was still keeping him from facing his own shock at what he had gone through. He was able to tap into his anger, his hate and his vengefulness. These vices fueled his energy to stay alert. Without them, these clawing inner forces, he would have simply laid down on the warm surface of the tiles in the cubicle and let sleep and exhaustion take him over.

But the anger was too strong and so he could find no release in sleep. Riley had been right. The force of his hatred could easily stop him from achieving what he wanted to achieve with Ryan. Slow destruction before anniliahation.

He wanted him punished, discredited, crippled professionally and personally and then – then – he wanted him dead. Any ill-conceived and rashly premature attempts to avenge Starsky would prevent his plans for the final destruction of Ryan.

He turned the force of the shower water full blast.

The pressure of the water was strong and the water was scalding hot.

But the pounding water did not drown out the sounds of his fist crashing into the tiled wall and the curling vapours did not wash away the coursing blood entirely before it gathering in rivulets and pooled about his feet.

Nor did it wash away the image of Ryan's face on the tiled surface. And that, thought Hutch was just as well, as he had more work to do yet on that projected image.

oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooO OOooo

It was opportune that he caught sight of a linen trolley up the hall as he emerged from the steamy shower room. The damp towel that he had wrapped firmly around his right fist was already soaked with water and blood. He snagged a fresh hand towel and stashed the soiled one in the hamper on the side of the trolley.

Wincing he applied pressure to his split and swollen knuckles as he wound the towel around his open fist and then tightly clenched it.

Burned like all hell, as though he had just gone two rounds with a vicious perp – and the feeling in his hand was exactly the feeling he craved to experience. The reassuring comfort that his fist had achieved something if only vent his fury on concrete and tile. If Ryan had been unattended when he found him in the pre-theatre room his fist would be burning now with the impact of his skin, teeth and bone on his knuckles – but the damage done by impacting concrete was better than no damage.

He re-entered the small room where Dobey and he had met. The door was ajar. Riley was seated at the small table reading over what appeared to be statement. He looked up and took no time in assessing the situation with his senior. Hutch was still dressed in his soiled and crumpled clothes, but at least he looked fresher and his hair was clean. The towel around his closed fist did not raise a lot of speculation in Riley. Better that it was some object than Ryan's head if it meant that Hutch avoided apprehension.

"Have an accident in the shower Hutch?"

Hutch cut through the observation, tired of trying to explain his feelings and the actions he took to deal with them.

"An incident Riley – there's a difference."

"I see – well the incident seems to have caused some more damage to your already beaten up hands."

"Where's Dobey?"

"Outside – Dobson's arrived and they're talking out near the cars. I think Dobey knew you wouldn't be in a good mood if you ran across Dobson right now. Wanted to fill him in before you encountered him…probably a smart move. You'll need to get that hand looked at - some ice perhaps, some ointment?"

"It can wait…is that your statement?"

"Well the report that I'm going to give to Dobey – Dobson wants something in writing too. I have spoken to the guys from the force here but they will need to get us both to do official statements when we can get organized. Ryan and Starsky's won't get done for a while yet anyway – with the surgeries."

Hutch made no response to the mention of Ryan's surgery.

"Might as well get my statement over and done with now – I don't want to be held up when Starsk comes out of surgery."

They were interrupted by a light knock on the door.

"Detective Hutchinson"

They both turned to see a young nurse at the entrance.

"Doctor on Duty – Dr Thomas wanted me to come and get you."

He was up on his feet and panic filling his chest as his brain tried to open to form a question. Riley stood too.

She caught their faces and quickly interjected.

"Please, its nothing to be concerned about. He wants you to come with me Detective - sorry – ah, just one of you, I'm afraid – Detective Hutchinson. Your partner is awake and quite responsive now. He is asking for you."

"I – I thought he was in OR by now."

"No not just yet – we have only one Operating Room running at this time of night and the other officer had the gunshot wound. Your partner – needs a wound exploration so not so urgent."

Hutch would have smiled sarcastically at her choice of words but realized that he was in the world of medicine – not his own arena. Here everything got categorized and 'triaged'.

To him – when his partner was injured it was always urgent.

"Go Hutch – now before they get a call to take him into OR."

"Ummm…Detective you will need to change out of those dirty clothes if you are seeing him before he goes into the OR. I will arrange for a set of surgical scrubs and ummm…you'll need to get that hand and your wrists bandaged also."

She saw the look of frustrated impatience flash across his handsome face.

"Come with me – it'll be done in no time."

oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooO OOoooOOOooo

She put the last piece of tape to secure the fresh wrist bandages and checked the strapped knuckles.

"Ok you're good to go."

_No I'm not. Oh Christ I'm not._

The curtained area in the pre-operative area where Starsky was now waiting was only in the next room.

This fear, this uncertainty had never attacked him like this at this moment before. It was always fear about Starsky's pain and his injuries – not this sort of fear. A fear ….of his partner and how they would both be with each other.

It was a sense of stepping into a pitch-black dark room, a room he knew well and that was filled with all of his prized and valued possessions. But now everything in the room had been mixed up and jumbled out of place and so at any moment he was going to stumble, fall and crash into something that had been moved. It was still the same room, the same familiar objects, but it was all so different. In all likelihood he was going to destroy something or break something that was precious to him.

And that is exactly how he felt as the nurse directed him to the curtain area where he knew Starsky lay behind. Everything had changed tonight. Yes they were still the same people – but so much had happened to displace Starsky and himself he was no longer sure what would lie between them.

But he had been asking for him. That's what the nurse and the Doctor had said. That Starsky hadn't want to go into the OR without speaking to him – that he had insisted that he just see his partner for a few minutes before he was pulled back into unconsciousness with the anesthetic drugs.

The small alcove where his narrow pre-op bed was positioned was not private and Hutch felt even more anxious with the hovering voices and background noise of the operating room department.

But suddenly he was inside the cubicle and the nurse left him as she pulled the curtains behind her.

His feet planted him to the ground just inside the curtains and the fear was rising up to steal his breath.

What the fuck was this all about? His best friend. The person closest to him in the world. What was this fear all about?

He knew of course. The fear was because this _was _his best friend, the person closest to him in the world and he had lost his reference points to their relationship. One sordid night and one sick man had jumbled everything up and taken away the light in his partner.

"Hutch?"

Just that one word, his spoken name by the familiar voice in a tone that sounded careful but not angry, uncertain, but not distressed - nearly undid him.

He took a tentative step forward. Nothing would come out. No response to his name.

"Hutch – come here. "

He moved to the edge of the bed and looked down with the fear a pulsing beat in his chest.

What did he imagine he'd see?

It was Starsky – not nearly as fragile nor as damaged as he had last seen him. A surgical gown covered his body and his wrists were still bandaged. Even his head wound was not visible, buried deep in his thick curly hair.

He face showed light bruising and discoloration from the repeated striking but then Hutch was used to seeing his partner bruised and battered in the face. What had he expected? That somehow his face would have changed from when he had last touched its familiar features during the ambulance ride in from the beach house?

What was this fear about?

It was Starsky and his eyes were Starsky's. The only difference was a look of pure confusion. He was trying to read his partner's eyes, but Hutch would not give them to him. Instead he moved his gaze over the room and back to the small bed.

If Starsky saw his eyes, he would read his fear and he would misinterpret the fear.

He kept his focus on Starsky's body but not on his face.

"I went away there for a while didn't I?"

"Yes – yes you did."

Even simple one-syllable words refused to come free from his tongue.

"Well … back now – wanted to talk to you before – go in again get this - "

His hand brushed weakly down near his side.

"Looked at. It will make me – well won't be able to talk again for while…ya' know me after drugs…"

"Yeah…I do..."

"Hutch – look at me."

"I – I aahhh – Starsky…."

"Tonight?"

Hutch gagged audibly and stared hard at the blood pressure machine pushed to the side of the bed.

"Tonight was bad – real bad. But... I'm still here and you are too. He could've killed ya' after he... killed us both, but we're both still here."

"Starsky – I can't find the words…. I don't know what….."

He sucked in his ragged breath and swallowed down on what felt like a sand clogged throat – the rawness from his inflamed larynx still choking him.

And then - it was just as Riley had told him. It was just as Riley had said.

"Hutch. …' Utch…..Don't need no words. No words now. Maybe later."

He held out a weak but steady hand to his partner and Hutch's relaxed into it immediately. Touch was easy – automatic. Comfortable. It was words that were hard. Which words would be wrong, which words would be right?

Starsky was getting groggy again.

"No words – enough that you're here with me …s'good…s'ok with me."

He stood beside him still and quiet as Starsky drifted away completely.

The fear hadn't gone away – and Hutch knew it wouldn't go away for a long time.

He tightened his hold on his partner's hand.

This was enough for now.

Riley was right again….


	16. Chapter 16

**Then Neither Can He**

**Chapter 16**

* * *

He used the time while Starsky was in the OR to sit down with the Ventura Police. They needed his statement. To their credit Hutch was grateful that they were neutral in their approach to him. They gave him space and time to describe the event through his eyes and from his point of view.

To his surprise they were also patient with him. Careful and non-intrusive. It would have been so easy for them to harass and push at him given the way he had crossed swords with them not more than two hours ago. His earlier explosive behavior and their subsequent need to restrain him had put him at a distinct disadvantage with the local boys in blue. Cops by nature were not patient and putting them offside with his attack on Ryan could have left him vulnerable to the whims of the local law.

The process was difficult and draining – he had expected it to be. Recollection and translation of traumatic experiences into laborious detail was always hard and challenged any witness or victim. It didn't help that he was used to being on the other side of the table – taking the statement, steering the interview and prompting the witness. But tonight he couldn't be a cop. He was in the thick of the very shit he was detailing and with each recall and every point jotted down by the cops, he relived the horror. The will to rub at his forearm was intense but knowing that it would only add more to Starsky's stress if he saw the evidence of his own self destructive behaviour he bit down hard to fight the urge. With grim determination he pressed his injured hands down firmly, palms flat to the table.

"Just take your time Detective…there is no rush here. We've got nowhere we have to be…."

And when he faltered, struggled with the emotions that flooded in with the retelling of Ryan's attack, they were considerate and empathetic.

"Take a moment if you need…we know this is difficult."

It was easy to see that his statement and the nature of his self-report shocked the Ventura Officers. It was all over their faces. Did they find the whole story plausible? He couldn't blame them if they baulked at the credibility of such a nightmarish scenario. By the time they had arrived on the scene the drama was over - but the carnage was splayed about the beach house - two wounded officers, one by gunshot and and the remnants of sexually frenzied activity. But they kept their opinions and reactions to themselves. This was difficult territory for them – a case that straddled both law and Internal Affairs. And Cops interviewing cops was never easy.

Hutch managed to hold himself together through the recount of the event and although many times he wanted to push his chair back and charge out out of the door, there was really no solace to be had elsewhere. The time spent here doing this with the two officers was not pleasant but it was a hell of a lot better than spending time with himself and the mess that was inside his head. His swollen knuckles already severely grazed and bruised could not afford to go another round with a wall and he didn't trust himself not to try it if he was left alone now.

As if the officers had read his thoughts they questioned him now about the fist.

"When we saw you before your hand wasn't bound."

He looked down and rubbed his left hand absently over the tape.

"Yeah...just couldn't seem to find a gym open at this time of night otherwise I would have used a punching bag."

_And you know damn well what I had been planning to pummel - you two just got in the way of my real target._

He shrugged vaguely and looked away.

They would be fully aware of what he did after they pulled him off Ryan earlier.

The officer just nodded silently and jotted something down.

There were only a few more questions.

And then it was over.

Whatever 'over' meant. Nothing was really over. Nothing had really even begun. How could they begin to get through this? Get to the other side?

"So – am I finished here?"

"Yes – that's about it. If we need to talk to you again we'll let you know. There is however something you may need to decide on behalf of your partner given the nature of your allegations of what Detective Lancaster did to him."

Of course he had been expecting this – knew that it would be laid out before him to decide. Just another block he had erected in his head on dealing with the reality of what had been done to his partner.

"We will need to call in the crime photographer for detailed evidence of …bodily assault on Detective Starsky. Specifically sexual assault."

"I know but he wouldn't want it. Is it imperative?"

"Detective I think you know that it is. Should you and Detective Starsky wish to proceed with legal action against Lancaster the visual evidence is important. The I.A will probably need photographic evidence also."

More assault, more invasion and humiliation. What impact would further intrusion by strangers have on someone who had already been so badly violated? All the times he had tried so hard to convince a rape victim to jump through every painful hoop to garner evidence and press for charges. Had he never really understood the ramifications?

So different, so very different when it was close to him. More than anything he wanted Ryan to go down for what he had done to Starsky. His gut was burning with the hunger to trample Ryan into the ground.

But what would it cost the two of them? For everything that affected his partner, affected him.

He thought about all those faces, all those frightened and traumatised victims and how he had never really listened to them. It was frustrating for him as a cop to stand back and watch them give up. But so many of them did. It was so much easier to just wash the filth away and retreat into a dark corner to heal slowly with nothing but time and fear for company.

_Can't I just get him fixed up surgically, put him in the car and drive him home? Lock the doors, shut out reality, the department and their probing questions and interrogations. Can't we both be just left alone until Starsky heals? _

_Can't I simply kill Ryan myself and be done with dragging Starsky through the mire of the law and departmental bullshit?_

"Detective Hutchinson?"

"Sorry – I …"

"We have heard here in your statement, allegations that would require the gathering of as much evidence as we can acquire. If you want to take this further with pressing criminal charges, we strongly advise you consent on behalf of your partner for the photos. The longer we put it off the less useful the evidence. Normally the clinical photography would have been done upon admission but the situation with this case is unique. If you want to wait until he consents then you need to be aware of the implications for deferring."

"I can't allow this to be done without talking it through with him and I won't consent on his behalf. What happens happens."

There would be no further erosion of the trust between them. The insidious creeping of Ryan into their lives in the last weeks had already destabilized their firm foundation of mutual trust.

"Fine. We will note down your decision on the matter. The surgical report alone and the admitting doctor's examination will provide a baseline for the allegations anyway."

The two officers began preparing to finish the interview.

"Looks like you could use some sleep now Detective. After all its – nearly four am."

"The other statements?"

"We have Officer Riley's but need to go over a few more things with him. He was able to tell us a lot when we first arrived on the scene earlier tonight. Detective Starsky and Lancaster's will have to wait until they recover from the anesthetic to be lucid enough to report."

"I want to be there when Starsky does his."

"In this case Detective that would probably not be granted…"

"Granted? Who needs to grant my presence? It's a police statement – just a statement. I want to be there. I'll say nothing and won't sway the interview…you have the power to remove me if you think I am impacting on Starsky's report. It's important…for me to be with him when he first talks about what happened to him…"

"If you think your partner needs support we can arrange to have a departmental counselor present at the interview."

"No – no counselor. He would hate that. That would just upset him more. Me – just me."

The two officers looked at each other and one nodded. Having been partnered together themselves for more than three years they had taken this man's measure from when they had first arrived on the scene. The concept of partnership– loyalty, trust, mutual protection and caring – underpinned every word and action they had seen in this vengeful blond detective this evening. It was becoming difficult for them to remain neutral toward him when they themselves understood his allegiance to his partner.

"Alright then. How about you let us know when your partner is ready to talk to us and we'll have the interview in your presence. It needs to be fairly soon though."

"Thank you – it means a lot to me that you're trying to make exceptions."

"Detective – this whole case is an exception. Nothing is what we could call normal. It's not every day that we get called to a scene involving four police officers not connected to a live case."

The other officer who had been quietly listening to his partner and Hutch talk joined the flow.

"You realize that your own Department of I.A will need to take this matter on as well?"

"I think I know the drill – "

It wasn't just the mention of Internal Affairs that had him feeling unwell.

Weariness was seeping in now and he suddenly was overcome with a need to find a place where no one would mention Ryan's name again.

The officers stood then to leave. Both of them held out their hands to Hutch to offer a firm handshake.

"Detective Hutchinson – thanks for your co-operation. I know how hard this must be – this whole thing sounds to have been – well very difficult for yourself and your partner. For your own sake – as we know you want to stay here at the hospital with your partner, make sure you keep your distance from Detective Lancaster. His Captain – ah Captain Dobson has already put in a complaint to us about your earlier behavior toward his officer."

"Dobson can …."

He stopped before he said what he wanted to say. His situation was precarious enough with these two men and he appreciated that they had already given him some breathing room after what he had tried on with Ryan.

He couldn't afford to give them cause to remove him from the premises.

"Dobson can take the matter up with me."

oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooO OOooo

It didn't take long to follow the matter up with Dobson at all.

When the three men walked out of the room, he and Dobey were talking in the hall outside.

He checked himself with his need to let loose on Ryan's Captain, but barely managed to wait until the two officers had exited the entrance doors of the hospital.

As he closed the distance between himself and Dobson, Dobey moved forward and put himself between the two men.

"You have something you want to say to me Dobson?"

Dobey put his hand up as if warding his detective back.

"Hutchinson – nothing is going to come of another altercation except trouble for yourself. I want you to stay calm."

Hutch pushed Dobey's hand down and stood directly in front of the Captain of the Nineteenth.

" I have a right to know what complaint you have made about me to the Ventura Police Department Dobson? Care to share it – I'm here now – you have my full attention."

"Hutchinson why act ignorant? You know that you tried to attack an injured and sedated officer whilst he was under medical care. You could have killed Ryan Lancaster if the two officers had not been able to pull you off him. You're obviously out of control and your conduct is reprehensible."

"Are you for fucking real Dobson? You're seriously going to stand there and accuse me of reprehensible conduct? Did you just hear the shit that just came out of his mouth Captain Dobey?"

"Hutch – don't start this. We've all just got to try to stay calm here. Everyone is upset and tired. Let's just back off with the accusations."

Dobey had been dreading this encounter as soon as Dobson arrived earlier. Even without Hutch having gone at Ryan in the emergency bay it would have been a hazardous meeting. Dobson was well and truly in Hutch's sights as fair game. If he had given his own captain such a hard time over the blame for allowing Ryan to be on the loose than Dobson was in for a lot more.

Hutch shrugged Dobey's hand away again and moved into Dobson's personal space further.

"Your sick fuck of an officer has spent the evening raping and assaulting my partner and you censor me for misconduct? See my wrists? That's what Ryan likes to do for his fun and games Dobson. Cuff a man up to force him to watch him beat and rip another man up. He made me watch him rape Starsky! Do you fucking understand? Answer me will you?"

"I understand what you're _telling _me he did Hutchinson but we've yet to get my officer's statement. Don't forget that Lancaster is in hospital right now because of gunshot wounds sustained from your young partner."

"Of course Riley shot him! Ryan had his gun pointed right at him and was about to shoot him. Perhaps he would have shot us all. Riley had no option."

"Once more Detective – your side of the story. Everyone has a right to give their own statement and until the police have interviewed all parties involved we won't know what we are dealing with here. I.A will probably arrive up here later today."

"I.A will need to take a back seat then because after the statement I just gave those boys, Ryan will need a lawyer here before the day is out – abduction, rape and attempted murder – come before intradepartmental issues. Though I will be interested in seeing what I.A have to say about your negligence in taking correct procedural action to remove a highly unstable cop from office. Ryan's partying with other cops' lives could've been prevented by you Dobson."

"Then let I.A decide themselves who is culpable in all of this. You yourself Hutchinson can't be the entire judge and jury of what has happened here tonight. Let's face it , you're hardly an objective party."

Hutch's finger jabbed into the other man's chest and Dobson's eyes widened in alarm.

"You're so fucking right there Dobson you creep! The very fact that what we're talking about happened to my partner makes me far from objective. And I'm getting less objective with every moment. So for your own well being I suggest you walk away from me now and keep away."

He spun and started to walk up the hallway away from the two older men, but then stopped and called back to his own Captain.

"Cap'n – do you know where Riley is?"

"Down in one of the waiting room lounges trying to get some shut eye."

"Well if you see him let him know he can use the bed in that room we've been given. I won't need it. "

"Hutchinson – you haven't slept in God knows how long. Why don't you put your own head down for a while? I'll come and get you as soon as Starsky rouses from his operation."

"Cap'n I think you know about the very close relationships that Starsky and I share with hospital bedside chairs."

He gave his captain a glint of a smile. A truce of sorts? Dobey thought it was as near to one as he could hope for with the mood his detective was in.

"If you need me… I'll be in his room."

oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooO OOooo

How long he slept in that damn unforgiving hospital chair he wasn't sure. The nurse had shown him to the room where they were bringing Starsky back to after his surgery. Whether or not Dobey was behind it he couldn't be sure but it seemed fortuitous that in this rather small hospital Starsky's room was at the very furthest point from Ryan's.

A light hand on his shoulder awakened him. The face of the young nurse from earlier was before his bleary eyes.

"Sorry Detective. Just letting you know we're wheeling him in now. Your partner was extremely agitated in the post-operative recovery area and we couldn't get him to settle. The doctor decided it was best to return him to his room and continue to monitor him here."

"Nothings wrong medically is it? His operation? Is he going to be ok?"

"No – that was all very standard. Doctor will fill you in on that. Its just that he is so agitated and alarmed – and yelling repeatedly for you."

Hutch slumped with relief. He couldn't have been sure what damage Ryan might have done to his insides when he hadn't been there to witness all of the attack.

"Ok Ok…."

"We'll have to be in and out frequently in the first hour to monitor his vitals which would normally be done in the recovery room…just so you know to expect that."

"That's fine and – just so you know to expect it – I will not be leaving this room until I decide to leave."

"I'll let you take that up with the treating doctor. Here's your partner now. Let's hope you can get him to calm down as the doctor doesn't want him to have any more sedation."

He heard Starsky before he saw him and pushed past the nurse to the hallway where orderlies were quickly wheeling the trolley while a male nurse tried unsuccessfully to hold down his flailing body.

"No! No! Get away! Get your hands off me …No! Please….Hutch! Hutch! Get him off of me. Stop him…please stop!"

The orderlies brought the trolley bed to a sudden and violent stop as Starsky all but lunged from the narrow surface. The male nurse was yelling and pushing firmly at his thrashing arms.

"Listen – Dave – you're going to hurt yourself . You're just waking up from surgery. You need to stay still. Stay still. Oh damn ! We're going to have to tie him down or something. "

The earlier anxiety Hutch had experienced with his partner before he was taken into the OR was pushed to the back of his mind. There was no burning fear as he focused now on the necessary job of trying to calm and soothe the obviously terrified Starsky. This was a role he was more sure of – more capable of carrying out.

He quickly responded with well-worn practiced moves. As he raced up to the trolley his hands were already reaching out to comfort and placate.

"No just let go of him…he's frightened of you. I'm sorry – please just move away."

"Sir who are you? Please we are trying to keep this patient from falling from this bed."

"Hutch! Hutch!"

The female nurse in the background was now calling out to the other staff.

"Leave him talk to the patient. He may be able to get him to lie back down."

"Starsky. It's ok. I'm here. I'm here with you now."

"Hutch. Shit. Hutch. Get him away from me – get them all away."

Hutch's arms were around him now and gently laying him back down to the bed, carefully pressing his hands down on his chest to keep him from sitting back up.

"He's gone now buddy. He's gone. Just me here with you and some nurses. You're safe and we're in the hospital. It's all ok now. I'm not going away. We need to move you to the bed in your room. Just stay lying still until we get you into the bed ok? "

Starsky settled back down and kept his eyes focused hard on his partners face.

The male and female nurse breathed a sigh of relief and the orderlies proceeded with the task of getting the trolley into the room.

"You're being lifted over now Starsky so just relax and let them do the moving. I'm still here buddy. Right here."

"Hutch don't let them touch me please. I don't want their hands on me…Hutch!"

'Shhhh….Ok ok….shhhh. Lie still."

"If you move away I'll lift him onto the bed."

"No Sir, that is not allowable. Against hospital regulations. Only nurses and orderlies can move patients after surgery."

_Screw your fucking regulations. The way you're scaring him now he'll be on the floor with his head cracked open you dumb idiot!_

_Calm just stay calm and don't get the staff offside._

"I appreciate that there are rules but as you've seen he isn't going to co-operate unless it is me that does the handling. Now please – this will be over in a few seconds if you just move away and let me do what I need to do."

The female nurse spoke up.

"Guys, He's right. The patient is going to really lose it like before if you don't let his partner do it. Ok Detective – just be careful."

He wanted to tell her that she needn't worry. He wanted to almost laugh. No one would be more careful with his partner than he was.

"If you take the IV please…"

He leaned down close to Starsky's face and spoke softly into his ear.

"Ok buddy. I'm going to lift you onto to the bed – just me, no one else. So don't struggle ok? I need to lift you and carry you to the bed so the room will spin a little so be ready."

" 'K…..Hutch? "

"Yeah buddy?"

"Your back?"

"Hey you never worry about my back when I have to drag you up the steps drunk…why worry now?"

His gently teasing smile was wasted for Starsky appeared to have closed his eyes again and was drifting his whole body visibly more relaxed now that Hutch filled his visual field and not strangers.

It didn't take long to get him onto the bed and the whole time he remained quiet and still.

The male nurse looked relieved.

"Hey thanks for that. Thought for a moment there I was going to lose control of him completely. There was no way he was going to settle down for us."

"He's been through a lot last night. Coming out of the surgery must have been too much of a shock. It's alright now I can manage him now."

The staff remained for a few more minutes adjusting the IV and doing more observations on him.

The young female nurse replaced the blood pressure cuff.

"We'll leave you alone for a little while now because disturbing him each time just makes him more agitated. Please buzz if you notice that he is in any medical distress and I will right in Ok?"

"Thanks – appreciate it."

"There's a light blanket there for you and coffee just outside in the hall."

She was gone and they were alone.

Starsky had fallen deeper into a postoperative rest and Hutch settled back into the chair – its uncomfortable contours as familiar to him as his office chair in the squad room. Testimony to how often he and the man in the bed played out these roles.

Fatigue filled every muscle, bone and fibre of his body and now that they were finally alone in this quiet room, alone and unthreatened, Hutch felt the first wave of utter exhaustion washing over him. His partner was right near him on the bed - breathing and recovering from the physical assaults upon his body. Just for now - he was safe. Hutch could breathe and sink down deeper into the corner of his mind that was his own mental reprieve. Soon he would have to face the fact that there was a dirty big black hole that he was eventually going to have to fall into in order to climb out again. And if he didn't climb out of the hole, who would be there for Starsky?

This night had changed them both.


	17. Chapter 17

**Then Neither Can He**

**Chapter 17**

* * *

**Early Morning following hospital admission of Starsky and Ryan Lancaster, late the previous night.**

.

.

"Detective Lancaster? Officers Peters and Sanderson, Ventura PD. I know that we have spoken with you before but your memory may be a little fuzzy from the anesthetic drugs."

The officers settled in the chairs beside his bed, one with a clipboard and pen the other having assembled a recorder on the small mobile table.

Propped up in the bed his arm heavily strapped and supported in a sling, Ryan's handsome face was marred with heavy bruising and some small cuts. The dark eyes though were clear and more attentive than when they had last spoken to him after the altercation with Hutchinson.

The light smile on his face welcomed them and he appeared relaxed and prepared to talk. An experienced cop, none of this was new to him and his responses betrayed little about his feelings or the procedure that was about to unfold.

"Yes I remember speaking to you but sorry could not recall your names. A lot went down last night so things are not that clear for me…but I'm feeling ok now to do this statement. And before we get into this I want to thank you both for what you did for me last night – in keeping Hutchinson off me. No doubt you saw how out of it he was. I never would have thought he would attack me in a damn hospital! God knows he done it before and in front of witnesses, but to go at me like that here - on a hospital bed - after what I had been through. Christ! . If you two hadn't been around – well let's put it this way, the mood he was in I don't think the hospital staff could have pulled him off. Have you considered that I should have some protection at my door while I'm here?"

"We've addressed the issue with Detective Hutchinson and we don't consider that he'll be posing any further threats to you whilst his partner is here in this hospital. "

"Sure – only because he doesn't want to be dragged off from David Starsky's side – but in the longer term I'm going to be a sitting duck for him."

"In the longer term and once you are back in your own jurisdiction that is an issue for your own departments to sort out. If you believe you require police protection than that matter will need to be taken up back in your own city. Detective Hutchinson has likewise raised concerns about protection for his partner whilst you have physical proximity to him in here. So remember Detective, it is imperative that you all keep your distances from one another if you don't wish to complicate this investigation."

"But can he stop me from seeing Starsky? I need to see how he is, how he's recovered from his surgery?"

"Detective it is strongly advised that you have no access to David Starsky whilst you are in this hospital and pending our investigation of the incident. To attempt to access Starsky is only going to put you under further threat with Hutchinson and jeopardize the investigation. Detective Hutchinson wants you to keep well away from his partner and this has been supported by the captain of their precinct - so please - respect those orders."

"Well can you at least tell me how he is after the surgery? I'm still stunned to hear that he required surgical attention."

"Detective Starsky required revision and exploration of his recent surgical wound. According to the surgical report the surgery was non eventful. He is currently resting. His partner Detective Hutchinson has requested no visitors unless he prior approves them."

"Well well - nothing's different there. He's keeping Starsky captive again as always."

"Detective Lancaster may we get started? We need your statement wrapped up soon. So let's go back over your account of the events of yesterday evening and any earlier events that you believe culminated in last night's incident at the ocean front house."

"Lets start with how and why you were at the Beach House where we received the call to last night?"

oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooO OOooo

Twenty minutes into the interview – Ryan had outlined roughly the sequence of the previous night's events.

Peters tapped his pen and looked down at his clipboard where he'd jotted down some notes. Sanderson was sitting to the side near the tape recorder. In this instance it was obvious that Peters was number one Cop for the interview process.

"So you're saying that you and Starsky arranged to have this rendezvous at this location? This designated location – a beach house quite a long way from your stamping grounds. Why didn't you travel together to the house?"

"I had a shift – but in the end – and I'm sure you'll check this – I pulled the pin early and hit the road. Starsky is not on active duty as you may be aware. He had driven up earlier after he met with the guy who got us the property. He rang me at work and told me the address – so I decided to head on up."

"And this man who set him up with the property?"

"Don't know his name –just someone - weasels, street sewer rats like we cops use - I'm sure you know – one of Starsky's street contacts though, not mine. Starsky probably knew he'd be good for it. He wasn't wrong, the rat came up with the goods - it was a cool pad right on the oceanfront."

This part of the story aligned somewhat with Hutchinson's information on the street weasel Mickey.

"So the …..sexual activities you and Detective Starsky were involved in together – were consensual?'

"Consensual? The way you say that Officer…. as if homosexual sex is somehow different to other sex. Hey as consensual as we guys can be - right? Is that what you mean? Because "normal" men wouldn't choose to have another man's penis penetrate him? So it must be a violent, non-consensual act? Are you making a judgment call on homosexual behavior? Is that what you're thinking officer?"

"Lancaster I'm drawing no personal conclusions here. I'm making no judgments. Consensual is consensual – in legal terms – are you saying that David Starsky consented for you to have sexual relations with him – of a violent nature?"

"Yes - that's what I'm saying officer. It was consensual foreplay, consensual sex. We both enjoyed ourselves. Sure it was a little bloodthirsty in parts, but it was our own personal sexual script. You are only judging it now because of what transpired at the end of the evening. Starsky and I share a tumultuous relationship – we are both prone to violent behaviour - in our jobs and in our personalities. It flows over often into our sex and last night in particular – and you can tell by looking at both of us – we were particularly aggressive with each other. 'Violently consensual' if you like. If you choose to use that term - than yes. Normally that is a private issue – because of developments last night it no longer is."

"And rendering Detective Starsky to near unconsciousness is all part of your sex play – your 'normal' sexual activity with each other?"

"Last night we fought heavily – very heavily, prior to our sex. Starsky lost it badly and beat up on me."

He waved his hand across the front of his face to emphasis – his features heavily marred with the result of Starsky's attack on him.

"Starsky has a temper. Sometimes he can't hold it in check. He got the better of me first but then later we balanced it out and he ended up with some heavy damage from me too. But we sorted our differences and moved on enough to enjoy our intimacy. What happened after that is all part of our sexual experience – the cuffs, the domination, the tearing even – if you want to get explicit. We get rough – turns us on. It's our style. He might have been knocked out for a while earlier when we were fighting but he was awake for the act. "

"And the nature of your argument? To cause such violent brawling between the two of you."

"Hutchinson. Always Hutchinson. He gets in the middle of us. Causes friction. Starsky feels an allegiance to him – I don't. Starsky doesn't like to freeze him out – I do. I don't want just part of Starsky – I don't want just a little bit of him that I can cleave away from his controlling partner. I want him to commit to me. Hutchinson won't let him free. We fight about this – we both get angry. "

"So are you describing a sexual relationship between Starsky and Hutchinson?"

"I'm not privy to the depth or the breadth of that part of their relationship – I don't believe many people are. I always accuse them of sharing a sexual relationship – but that is not public information. I believe that they have shared one in the past and maybe still do. But those are my thoughts, my insecurities. What they do share is an uncharacteristically strong personal relationship that gets in the way of anyone else getting near to Starsky. He and I want to explore a sexual relationship – we have been. Their intense bond gets in the way of us taking it to the point where I want it to go."

"The doctor has reported not only significant tearing of the anus and soft tissues in the rectal area but also heavy assault to a recent surgical repair – a knife wound. This required further surgical repair just hours ago. Can you comment on that?"

"I know you will already know Officer Peters how that wound came about. I will not go into those details here again – but the wound – yes it got messed up during our fight – quite badly I realize now. At the time I was not aware of that – or what I did to him in that regard. When you're going blow for blow as you obviously know as cops – it's hard to pick your aim."

"Officer Riley states that Detective Hutchinson was cuffed to the chair when he entered the room. The damaged and torn skin around his wrists support that he was struggling for an extended period of time. There was also vomitus found near the chair. This suggests that he was under significant stress while he was restrained and because of the way in which he was restrained. "

"I'm not entirely sure what he was doing while Starsky and I were otherwise involved. We were so into the act. Otherwise occupied as one gets when in the middle of intense sex."

He paused now and smiled a little smugly at Sanderson who was looking away while Ryan spoke and tapping his foot in agitation.

"Sorry if this subject is upsetting you Officer. I can see that you're uncomfortable with the idea of male on male sex – or maybe just intimacy in general? I didn't ask my sex life to be dragged into a police interview."

Sanderson and Peters exchanged looks.

Ryan picked up where he was.

"…..But, Hutchinson ah?... Yeah I'm sure he was straining to get out and get to us. He was consumed with jealousy and no doubt wanted to pull me off Starsky. He hates me – like I said – hates me and has always been jealous of what I have for his partner. Hutchinson is the most possessive guy you'll ever meet. He thinks he owns Starsky – wants to control him and everything he does and who he's with. But Starsky's stubborn and hotheaded and he likes to do his own thing. It's become a big contentious issue for Starsky."

"Even if it means agreeing to cuffing his own partner unwillingly into a chair to force him to watch him have sexual relations with another man that he supposedly hates? You're saying that as Hutchinson's partner – and by all accounts Lancaster, David Starsky is highly devoted to his partner and that goes both ways – that he would do that to him?"

Ryan shrugged his big shoulders eloquently, his dark eyes looking the officer squarely in the face.

"When two people are in the middle of a heated sexual experience, lots of things that don't normally happen can happen. Starsky wouldn't hurt Hutchinson – I'm not saying that. But – he was angry with him for following us there, for intruding and for not giving him personal space. We were both damn angry that he just thought he could step into our night together. It was my idea to cuff him and make him watch, but Starsky played along. He was turned on by it – by having Hutchinson watch him. I'm sure too that Hutchinson had a great time…"

Ryan paused and looked at both officers. Sanderson was looking down at the floor hard. His jaw tensing, facial muscles jumping – proof that he was struggling with the concept of Ryan's words and imagery. Peters just stared him back hard in the face.

"And why would you say that Hutchinson would enjoy seeing you do what you did to his partner? Hurting him, overpowering him? And if he did then why did he struggle so violently?"

"Officer Peters – heightened sexual excitement is a complex emotion, a complex reaction. Maybe you should ask him yourself. But when he feels as close to Starsky as he is - of course it causes strong reactions in him. It's not an unusual activity carried out in bedrooms Officer. Threesomes or triangles where one is the spectator – restrained spectator – are common."

Sanderson spoke now and his sudden interjection momentarily had Ryan off guard.

"Not so common Detective where they end up with a fourth person shooting one of the participants and two of the participants requiring surgery."

"Yeah – it all got out of hand. I know that. From the start it was a volatile setup. The fire Starsky and I lit blew in the wrong direction – Hutchinson should never have shown up, nor should his junior Rookie."

"So you knew the address of where Starsky was staying? You two had the meeting and the evening planned? He brought a bag – a few changes of clothes. You had nothing with you? "

"No – I told you – I've got work. He hasn't. It was only over an hours drive up outside the city limits. Manageable. Would have crashed the night and driven straight back in the morning."

Ryan could see that Peters was jumping all over the place – coming in at odd angles, going off point and coming back to it later on – standard sort of soft antagonistic questioning. Passive aggressive stance.

Sanderson's body language and facial tightening showed his discomfort with Ryan's matter of fact handling of the sexual encounter between he and Starsky and the nature of Ryan's content and recounting of the event.

Peters was more unaffected by the words and blunt in his offhanded and zigzag questioning style.

Ryan stayed cool and unflustered though he could feel his anger rising by degrees. The officers did not approve of him or his attitude toward Hutchinson. He wasn't a cop for nothing and had been in the game a while longer than these two. Sanderson in particular was struggling to stay quiet and non-reactive to Ryan's character assassination of Starsky's partner and Ryan wondered to himself what Hutchinson had said or done to get under the skin of these two officers. Then again it went without saying that he being placed at the scene where shots had been fired and violent male on male sex had occurred – did little to put him the good graces of two "by the book" conservative officers.

"So you and Starsky were surprised to see Hutchinson show up at your beach house rendezvous? Sometime later officer Riley shows up? Quite the night for unexpected visitors wasn't it? So was Hutchinson expecting his Rookie to join him at the house?"

"Once more that's a question for Hutchinson. I have no idea how he got there but do know that when he busted in by shooting the front door down, I got a huge surprise."

"Officer Riley and Hutchinson claim you threatened to shoot Riley."

"I heard someone shooting out the locks in the front door so naturally I grabbed my gun and went into defensive mode. I'm sure any other cop would have done the same. Particularly when I had my lover retrained to the bed in cuffs- he was in danger – lying there unable to protect himself."

"So you claim that Riley shot you under orders from his supervising Sergeant – why would Hutchinson tell him to shoot you if you were not threatening his officer?"

"Because it was a perfect set up to put me out of action – maybe even kill me I don't know. Hutchinson was full of rage toward me – had been yelling and yelling to get to Starsky and for us to stop what we were doing to together. He was filled with violent jealousy – screaming his head off."

"But you said you unaware of his movements and reactions in the chair?"

Ryan laughed – now no longer able to suppress his trademark contempt.

"Hard not to hear him screaming and abusing me. Screamed himself hoarse. But I don't doubt he was also enjoying the show – enjoying watching his partner get it from someone else."

"And you're telling us that this behavior – this highly distressed behavior from Hutchinson would be something that Starsky would allow to continue?"

"Starsky was off in his own world by then – we were screaming ourselves – from sexual pleasure. I doubt Starsky would even have been aware of what his partner was doing in that chair."

"There were signs of severe bruising around Starsky's throat."

Ryan gave a seductive smile and narrowed his dark eyes at Peters.

"Once more Officer – all part of the pleasure experience – pretty standard stuff. Perhaps not for you and Sanderson – but then I can't comment on your sexual preferences or kinks – and I'd prefer if you didn't comment on mine."

"Officer Sanderson and mine sexual proclivities are not on the table here Lancaster – yours are. And your 'kinks' are not exempt from scrutiny where they are involved or impact on a police scene. Commentary to belittle us will hardly help your situation."

For the first time in the interview Ryan felt that he had lost ground to Peters. He had allowed his sardonic arrogance to show through his veneer of affable and open booked co-operation.

"Is it the case that your attempts to choke Detective Starsky rendered him unconscious? "

"He was never unconscious – just floating. It gets like that."

"Get's like what?"

"With domination – one partner overpowers the other to the point where after the climax of the event – the one who has been submitting for so long, just zones into a deep sleep – a heavy post climatic sleep."

"Detective Starsky was not asleep – according to the medics report he was barely conscious and not able to be roused."

Ryan did not answer just smiled lightly and shrugged.

"How long have you and Starsky had this relationship you describe?"

"We were together in the Academy – we all were. The three of us. Even back then though Hutchinson never liked me and I never knew why. Not at first anyway. Figured it out soon enough when I started showing an active interest in Starsky. They were tight –not as tight as now – but he was still possessive of him back then. Threatened me to break it up with Starsky – that Starsky was his. Over the years he kept blocking me from getting closer to Starsky. Ask around –everyone will tell you about the two of them. What a solid unit they are – and that is how Hutchinson wants to keep them. He doesn't allow anything or anyone to come between them."

"But from what we can discern you work in different precincts and your paths have not crossed professionally in a while according to Captain Dobey and Dobson."

"That's true, but I've always kept tabs on Starsky – seen him around on and off over the years."

"But when did you begin this involvement – this new relationship with him?"

"There was an opportunity for our two precincts to work together on a big undercover case. A big drug bust. I was already tagged for the job but there was no one suitable in my unit to go in with me – our last guy under bought it while under. Dobson approached Dobey's precinct - down at Parker Centre. Starsky was a candidate to go in with me. Hutchinson – was – ah – well lets just say indisposed at the time."

"So you went in with Starsky. Yes we heard about that. Didn't turn out too well."

"The case was a success – shit happens on cases. The point is Hutchinson was furious that we were in there together. He resented me even more and it burned him up that we were under together. This is when a lot of this shit started with him – the crazy out of control jealousy he has for Starsky. After the operation was over Starsky and I tried to pick up what we'd shared while undercover – but Hutchinson got in the way. Every step I took he was there – pushing against me, trying to pull Starsky and I apart. It messed Starsk's head up really bad. Really bad. You probably know that he was under treatment by the Departmental shrink because of how fucked up this whole thing with Hutchinson and me got him."

"We are aware that Detective Starsky is currently suspended from the force."

" Yeah - His captain suspended him and that only stuffed him up more. We were trying to get our act together away from Hutchinson. That is why Starsky arranged to get the beach house. He's had enough – enough of his interfering and jealous partner. Hutchinson must have got wind of what we were doing last night – I don't know how – but when it concerns Starsky he'll go to any lengths to find him or stop him doing what he doesn't want him to. My guess is that he has been filling his Rookie's head with a lot of stuff about me. Riley looks up to him would do what he wants to earn his respect.

And in the end it all led to this point – led to last night where he ordered his little Rookie to shoot me…."

Ryan made a point of grimacing and shifting in the bed.

"Look if you guys have got enough I'd prefer to wind it up there – my arm is starting to really bother me, I think I need some more pain medication. We're just going around in circles now anyway…"

….And as Sanderson packed up the recorder and Peters shuffled his notes together their expressions spoke volumes .With guarded looks at each other they were in silent agreement.

They too had quite enough of this interview.

oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooO OOoooOOOooo

Hutch could tell he was waking up properly now. Swimming toward the surface of the drug induced dreamless state. He always seemed to sense the moment when Starsky was aware for the first time whether it be after heavy sleep or unconsciousness.

Hutch himself had managed to fall asleep for a couple of hours – he could tell by the play of the light across the semi- darkened room. Early morning light was creeping in and the usual busy morning sounds of a hospital coming alive were humming in the background. He was beyond tired now – worn out on every level of his soul and aching body. The brief respite into sleep – as so often was his experience - only made his ragged body feel worse.

Starsky was coughing lightly – pulling air into his traumatised throat had him fighting for breath. Hutch's own throat was still very raw from his incessant yelling and screaming, so he knew they would both sound like sore bears when they finally spoke to each other.

The water-glass at the ready he waited for Starsky's eyes to open, and then without speaking he gently lifted his head for him and held the glass to his dry lips. His words were out quickly before the fear and weariness leapt into the deep blue eyes.

"I'm here. I'm here – we're alone. No one else is here. You're in hospital. Can you remember? Here – just a small sip – easy. A little more…there. Enough?"

The questions replaced the fear now – filling his eyes as he brought his hand up to carefully wrap around Hutch's bound wrist.

His forehead crinkled with the effort of remembering and the strain of concern.

"We're here in the Ventura hospital. Its early morning. You had some surgery again last night very late when they brought you to this hospital – closer to where we were at the …..where you were. The surgery was to fix your knife wound up again so you'll be tender on your side again, be careful.""

Could he keep filling the spaces with words that did not hurt or reveal? Could he keep lulling and reassuring and not letting Starsky ask his own questions. It was important to give him information – any information that would stop him from looking at the black reality of all that really had happened. Hutch knew as he was talking that he was doing all of this as much for himself as for his partner. When Starsky asked him the first painful questions it would nudge open the door that Hutch was still leaning heavily against.

In one quick push Starsky had the door open and the stink and the grime that was Ryan flooded into the small clinical space of the hospital room.

"Where …..is he Hutch? Is he ….dead? Is Ryan dead. No ….I can …he's alive isn't he? He is…... Where's Ryan Hutch?"

Hutch's empty stomach clenched and spasmed. The name, even the name was more than he could bear.

Caught in his own personal hell of the memories that his name evoked, he failed to answer.

"Hutch?... Hutch... Tell me where he is…."

He had turned away now , straightened up and moved away from the bed. The reaction that was setting in was too much and appalled at what was happening to him and helpless to deal with in front of Starsky he put distance between them and turned away – walking toward the window.

"He's here. He's in this same hospital – down the hall."

The gravelly voice that he hardly recognized as his own was tremulous. The raw broken knuckles still bound firmly with hospital tape now became his negative energy transfer point. The battered fist represented Ryan and the forearms were no longer his weakest link . Rubbing the knuckles , reawakening the pain, reawakening the feel of Ryan's cheekbone under them, crushing his flesh, splitting his skin, his blood spitting. It worked just a little for him now. In fact it worked enough that his breath came back and the light headedness abated. He could keep Ryan down simply by this mind force. Simply by pulverising him in his mind.

Silent moments passed and Hutch fought heavily against the need to flee from the room. When the anxiety had mounted, when Starsky spoke his name and asked after him– he was in need of a hard wall again – another projected image on which he could focus his pent up vengeance.

"Come 'ere. Hutch come 'ere. Please…."

Starsky was holding out arm and attempting to pull himself into a half sitting position.

In a second he had crossed to his side.

"Don't do that – lie down. No – hey….don't do that."

"Hey no – you listen. You listen to me Hutch._ You_ don't do that ok? Its _you_ who shouldn't do that."

He was so busy trying to get Starsky to lie down again and to prevent the tension on his IV line that he missed the words. When the olive toned hand clenched down firmly onto his own forearm, he stopped and looked down – suddenly paying attention.

"Don't do that Hutch. Don't start this – you could do nothing to stop him. Nothing. Nothing to stop what he did and starting right now you need to realize that. No – don't look away Hutch. Not this time – you're not doing this again and I won't let you."


	18. Chapter 18

**Then Neither Can He**

**Chapter 18**

* * *

"You shouldn't have followed me Hutch. If you hadn't followed me than ya' never would have had to go through what ya' did – cuffed to that chair like that and made to watch it all….to watch him….do…..what he did…."

"I couldn't help you Starsk. I did nothing. Nothing. Stuck in that fucking chair while he…..and when I first came in, he had you cold, his gun on you. I was so fucking useless, never been or felt so fucking useless Starsk."

"Hey…Don't – I don't want ya' to do this to us Hutch. There ain't one thing you could've done – not one thing and it was you who had to go through it all – watchin' and listenin' to him. I was so sure he was gonna kill you – when it was finished. Thought he'd just blow you away and I'd wake up to find ya dead beside me. Tried to hold on for ya as long as I could buddy but – in the end I just had to let go and , he could have done anything to you."

_You held on? You held on for me? Christ Starsky! It was you who was being ripped apart! It was you that animal was violating and you wanted to somehow protect me from that position? This time though the monster that had us was too much for both of us._

Starsky repeated his earlier words.

"I wish to God you hadn't come Hutch. Wished to God ya' didn't see what ya' did – its what he wanted – he would have wanted you to suffer and struggle and I can see how its messed you up – I can feel ya' pain Hutch. I can feel it in you as you're sittin here in front of me. "

"Didn't come? How could I not come Starsky? How could I not follow you? Do you imagine for one moment I would not have tried to find you? I knew when Ryan had disappeared from work that he was after you. I was so scared I'd find you all ready dead when I got there. If only I hadn't pushed you in a corner where you felt you had to get away from me. I did this to you Starsky – I made you take off and put yourself in this dangerous position where Ryan could pick you off. And then in the end, even when I found you, I couldn't even help you at all. And he hurt you all over again – so badly Starsky – so badly – I could do nothing. I could do nothing. Nothing…"

Hutch collapsed back heavily into the chair beside the bed and let his head fall into his shaking hands. He scrubbed hard at his forehead and eyes and drew in deep tremulous breaths …

"I fucking sat and watched you get – let him …..and then when it got so bad Starsk, I turned away. I turned away and couldn't watch. I hate that I couldn't stay strong enough to stop him."

"Hutch please – I don't want this to be how you set this up in your mind. You do this now – we ain't ever gonna be able to move you forward outta this belief – you're distortin' everything to make yourself take the blame for somethin' you could have never never changed. You're makin' this worse for ya' self and worse for me too. I won't have him pull us down further than we already are.

Listen to yourself It's just total crap what ya' sayin'. How did ya' think you could stop him when you were cuffed to a solid base and he was threatenin' me with a gun? You're not makin' sense. He's doin' this – Ryan, the sick fuck is makin' ya believe this shit."

" I DIDN' T STOP HIM. I DIDN'T STOP IT! HE RAPED YOU AND I COULDN'T STOP HIM."

The tired eyes so stricken with pain shone with unshed tears and as though he was fighting to contain the deep tearing pain of remorse inside of himself he pushed his scarred forearms arms hard against his chest as he rocked in deep despair. He wanted so much to wrap those arms around his partner but knew that he may never be permitted to do that again, or to feel that he had the right to. Touch was the last thing Starsky would want or could bear. So he stayed where he was , locked in his own annexed hell and ordered his arms not to reach for the only thing that would give him some temporary solace.

He squeezed his eyes closed tight against the swimming tears as he lowered his head and pressed his body deeper into the chair, his head bent so low that he was almost doubled over completely. He was the picture of a man consumed by gut wrenching self-loathing.

When one surprisingly strong and achingly familiar arm came around his slumped shoulder and a gentle hand came down to lift his chin from his chest with infinite care, he jolted into awareness.

Starsky had climbed soundlessly out of the bed and pulled himself over to his wretched partner.

"Starsky – you're out of bed…. no."

But in the end he was powerless to not take what his partner was offering him. For right now it was what he so desperately needed - what he ached for. He let his head be tilted up and his gaze to meet his friend's concerned and caring one. His own hand came up to press with intensity into the hand that was squeezing his shoulder. The fingers that traced down the side of his face to settle carefully under his jaw cupping the jawline and then moving back to where his hair touched the nape of his neck mapped out such a well-worn pathway that he anticipated their journey and nudged into their gentle caress.

Starsky directed him silently up next to him on the bed with almost graceful choreography that was the manifestation of years of shared comfort and soothing between the closest of friends. Hutch allowed himself to be held. To be held, touched, and understood by someone who could understand him better than he could even begin to understand himself. How could Starsky absorb his pain when he was already brimming over with his own? How could he fill up the empty spaced of bereftness within him when he himself must be stripped bare by the trauma inflicted on him?

He should never have asked - it was just the way it was, always had been between them. Even when they were deplete as individuals, as a unit they replenished their life blood.

Starsky's touch and acceptance was his emotional transfusion.

The tears never did come. The release for all that was rotting inside him was too far away yet. If it ever came at all. But the relief at having his longing to be close – this physically close to Starsky again after them having been so distant was overwhelming. Hutch held on with a fierceness that betrayed his neediness and wondered at the emotional and mental strength of this man who had been through so much and was now reaching out to nurture him. His partner's selfless act only intensified his own selfish wants. Just for now, he took all that Starsky was giving him.

They didn't speak for many minutes and when Hutch could feel that the physical effort of holding him was draining his weakened partner, he pulled himself back and helped Starsky to lie back down, still holding on firmly to his forearms – unprepared to break the contact.

Hutch found some words and the tears threatened again as he choked out the simple gratitude that was heavy with emotion.

"Thank you. I…needed that…need you - Starsk. "

"I'm sorry that I haven't been around for a while. Since all this….since Ryan…I've been pretty unavailable haven't I? Got lost somewhere there for a while. Left you out there. I'm sorry for that Hutch."

"Starsky, you've gone through so much since that undercover operation. But the more I tried to reach out to you – the more you moved away from me. I've handled it all so badly – right from the beginning. Right from the start. If only I'd made you listen to me and told you about Ryan and what he was like – you would never have gone into that job with him."

"Hutch – this is a bad place he's put us in – not just me, both of us. Don't make it any easier for him by trying' to frame ya'self for what he's done. Let's just go forward now ok?"

"Forward? I don't think I know how to begin to do that Starsk. How can you be so strong? How? All that's happened to you -? I was so scared of even touching you, thought you wouldn't want anyone near you again…"

"I don't. I won't. Just you Hutch – no one else. It's gonna be a long time before I trust anyone ever again. Human mankind has gone down heavily in my estimation. When I was on that bed, when he was doing …"

Hutch's hand jerked under his and the tension was back in his partner's face.

"Hutch stop – let me say it. I want to say it – I need to. When Ryan had me on that bed and I thought that he might kill you – I realized then that all these weeks you've been tryin' and tryin' to help me stop this lunatic and I've just stayed angry with you. You were prepared to let him blow ya' career about the heroin addiction exposure, and ya' said ya' didn't care. You just wanted me safe and to get him out of our lives. I was so angry with you for pushin' me into facing the truth that he's evil and that he was prepared to destroy us. And then when you went to Dobey and blew it all open – I was even angrier with you. Ya' found me up at that beach house – no doubt you somehow connected the dots with Mickey – and ya' walked right into a trap that could have been the end for you. There was every chance he meant to kill ya' last night and then how would that have left me feelin' huh? And here's you sittin' there blamin' ya' self! Well no more! Ryan has put a divide between us Hutch – and what he's done to me now could easily finish us completely. That's what he wants. Not gonna happen. Not gonna let it happen Hutch. If ya' keep this up – keep beatin' ya'self to pulp over another man's psycho sickness - he's gonna win. "

" I hate him so much Starsky – I – I can't even say his name without wanting .. .. wanting to vomit, or to ...hurt myself. I don't know how to get past this. There's nothing left in me but burning hate and that sure isn't giving me a way forward. I don't have a tenth of your strength and you're the one who went through it all."

"You were forced to watch and made to feel useless, powerless. I know how hard that would have been. I know coz if the roles had been reversed – I don't think I could've survived bein' in the situation he put you in. Hutch – I couldn't have watched ….him do that to you….I couldn't have taken it and still be sane. Strong? Of course you are. I might be the one on the hospital bed here - I might be the one with the physical scars of what he did - but you - Hutch you are a victim here too. Probably moreso than me. I know – I know - how it must have been for ya' every step of the way….. to see me raped."

The last words were barely articulated as he forced them out of his anguished mouth.

"Starsky….don't please…I can't …don't want to have to remember…"

"You don't have to remember - though you'll find it hard to forget for a long time. But you do have to face it - like I have to, coz it sure as hell ain't goin' away till we do. That's why you're in such deep pain now. I _know_ he raped me Hutch. I can feel it and it hurts like a bitch. Like a bitch. I know because the nurses tried to examine ….there…after the surgery…it was too much. Couldn't stand their hands on me, or their eyes looking at me. I might not remember but I know its been done. I don't remember the pain or the fear – I was so out of it. Like when I was stabbed and lying in that alley – I was there but not really ya' know? Last thing I remember was the terror that he was gonna shoot you and I couldn't stop him. I tried to stay aware so that I would know what he was doing to you – but I just couldn't – it was like my body just shut down on me. I feel like the one who left _you_ there in that room with him Hutch – I feel like I gotta away, but you didn't."

Hutch swallowed convulsively and stared for a long while at his partner. Was he trying to protect him? Was he trying to make it easier for him? Did he truly not remember the depravity of Ryan in his final stages of assault? Was he really spared that anguish, that horror that would forever be seared into his own memory? If so – and if it eluded him forever than Hutch was grateful for the strange ways that the human mind and psyche worked.

Even as he thought all of this he also knew that it would be in Ryan's favor legally. Without a tangible recollection of the rape by the victim himself, his own statement and possibly Riley's would hold less credibility.

Right now though that mattered little to him.

If Starsky had been spared the worst memories of his suffering and the violence directed against him than he considered it a fair price. A fair price - irrespective of its implications. Despite it being a double-edged sword in the legal context.

Which did he want more – retribution for what Ryan had done to Starsky, or mitigation for Starsky's pain? If he had to choose one, he knew which one he would elect to forego.

Of course, he wanted Ryan to go down and to go down hard. But if there was a possibility that Starsky would be less scathed mentally from this ordeal than he would take the risk of letting Ryan walk free. After all he knew in his own mind - and just as he had promised to Ryan before the medics came to take him, it was all only a matter of time. There would come the time that he would call upon Ryan to claim his personal payment for what he had done to his partner.

He brought his concentration back to Starsky's voice.

"When I saw you hours ago ….after I was in the Emergency Room and I asked them if I could see you before I went into the OR again….as soon as I saw you I knew that you had been through hell when we were all in that room last night Hutch. You'll be the one who will have to carry the memory all by yourself and I'm sorry for that. Ryan wanted you to feel powerless and to feel that there was nothing you could do this time to stop it. In the end, I stopped it for myself, my own mind stopped it, shut it all out. But you couldn't do that. You were stuck there - for everything. You'll carry that memory of Ryan forever - and it's me who can't help you with that. It's me who feels guilty that you were stuck there with him through it all and I took myself away. "

Unconsciously Hutch had lifted his hands from Starsky and had begun rubbing at the strapped knuckles. Starsky watched the agitated action and worry filled his face.

"I wanted so badly to kill him Starsky - to pull him off of you and beat him to death. Never in my life, in my career have I felt such a raw, compulsive need to maim someone so badly. "

"Keep your distance from him Hutch. Promise me that will you? You let loose on him like you did with when you pummeled those knuckles – you'll have played directly into his hands. He's an expert at manipulation - a master of fucking up other people's lives – he'll be only too happy to take a fall so you can end up on the wrong side of the IA with him."

"I know – already came close to getting my ass thrown in the local lockup when I paid him a bedside visit before he went into surgery."

A light smile crossed Starsky's bruised features.

"See what happens when I'm bedridden – you take on my job – sounds like somethin' I'd do. I take it you were stopped – if that busted fist was a result of smashin' up Ryan's face – you wouldn't be sittin' here with me now. I guess there's a busted up wall around this hospital somewhere?"

"Right on both count smartass. Local cops got in my way and I can tell you – tiles hurt more than plaster. But Jesus - the rush is worth it at the time. "

"Shit Hutch – awww ….shit… "

Hutch was deadly serious again at Starsky's concerned tone.

" So much hate for him Starsky – I see him doing what he did to you – the rage – where can I put it – all this rage?"

"I haven't got the answer for that Hutch – we just have to hold onto it somehow – till a time … "

Realizing then what that sounded like, that Hutch would sense his unilateral decision to go after Ryan in his own time and to seek revenge, final revenge, he backtracked quickly to amend his words.

"Till time takes care of it for us. Time is all we have to take the hate away."

"Starsky – there's justice. Ryan may well go to prison for what he did to you. I've given my statement to the Ventura Police, so has Riley. The two Ventura cops have agreed to let me be present with you when you give yours. I know they want it soon – but I'll put them off as long as you need me to buddy. Just let me know when you feel ready and until then –"

"I can give it whenever. Not something I'm looking forward to doing but – "

"I have no idea what …..he has said to them. They will probably have his statement by now."

The fact that his partner could not bring himself to even articulate Ryan's name was not lost on Starsky – but he did not draw attention to the point. Hutch was in very bad shape and even though he was the one in the designated victim role it was obvious who was suffering the most out of the two of them.

"Ok – then we can do this Hutch. This statement – I want it behind me and I want you here while I do it."

"Already told them buddy that they would have it no other way."

"I'm sure ya' did partner. Now you look like you're in need of a serious caffeine load. How about ya' rustle some up for both of us? Then call the Ventura boys in and lets get this done."

"You know Dobey will want to see you."

"No. Not Yet."

"Ok….." If he wanted to question the adamant stance he decided to leave it. It was Starsky's call. But to block out their Captain was something that could only be sustained for so long.

"Just…not yet Hutch. Please. Just you. I may seem strong but I'm not that strong. Just puttin' on my brave face for you buddy. I need a bit more time to get myself – shit Hutch I haven't got the words for it – "

"Hey – hey. Stop. Remember – like you said to me last night. Don't need words. Not just yet. Hell we've said enough of them already – so that's good enough. You can find words for dealing with other people when you're ready. As Riley said to me – one step at a time – just one step."

And speaking of Riley, Hutch felt a rush of enthusiastic zeal to put Starsky in the picture about the role his forthright offsider had played in the hellish drama of last night.

"God Starsky, I'm so proud of him. He saved us! He saved you – and I will be forever indebted to him for that. You should have seen him – faced that sicko off and never lost his nerve. Put two bullets in him - but kept his cool the entire time and played it all perfectly by the book. Tracked me down using good old fashioned detective skills…Starsk?"

Something was wrong.

"Starsky? Shit. You're tired aren't you ? This is all too much, too soon. I…I'll go get that coffee and you have another rest. How about we leave the statement for another couple of hours?"

It wasn't that he was tired. Hutch sensed it immediately.

But it was too hard to look at – so he pushed it to the back of his mind straight away and framed his own excuses for his partner's sudden detachment and coldness.

It was the mention of Riley.

"No, really. I'm ready for the statement. Go fuel up and let me know how the guys are doing for time. But no one else Hutch – no Dobey or Dobson – or Riley. Just you and the Ventura boys for the report ok?"

He didn't want Starsky to see the look of hurt confusion in his eyes and didn't want to examine what was at the basis of his reaction to Riley.

"Sure …sure. Just lie back there and rest and I'll be back with the coffee."

When the door closed behind him and Starsky was left alone he remembered the hurt and perplexed look on Hutch's face as he had turned to leave.

Guilt rose up in him knowing that he had put that look there. He'd thrown Hutch's joyous celebration and pride of his young Rookie back in his face like some thankless, thoughtless prick.

_Fuck it! Starsky what is that about?_

He would have told Hutch why he did that - just froze him out suddenly at the mention of Riley. The reaction was uncharacteristic for his personality for he of the two of them was usually the more accepting of third parties and social embracement. And he would have wiped that look of disappointed hurt from Hutch's tired face – if only he knew himself why he'd reacted the way he did just now.

Ryan. Riley. Ryan. Riley.

The two names swam in his head and in some inconceivable way they were both connected in his mind. The Bad and the Good, the Evil and the Guileless – they co-existed in a chapter of his life that was shaping up to be perhaps the very worst in the life and times of David Starsky.


	19. Chapter 19

**Then Neither Can He**

**Chapter 19**

* * *

"Are you sure you're up to this? I can put them off for a couple of more hours if you need to rest a bit longer. I just spoke to both of them in the side room where they're having coffee. They're killing time there writing up reports anyway – so they can afford to wait."

"No – get em' in Hutch. Let me get this behind me. Then I want to think about gettin' outta here. I'm so freakin' sick of hospitals."

"I'll get the guys in for the statement Starsk, but giving that has nothing to do with you getting discharged. That's up to the Doctor – so don't start pushing for that. Maybe we can see if it's possible to get you transferred back down to Bay City."

Hutch didn't say it but he thought they both thought it – having Ryan only a couple of doors down as a fellow patient was untenable to both of them.

A soft knock at the door brought Hutch's mind back from Ryan.

Thinking it was the two Ventura cops, Hutch opened the door wide. Riley stood there but came no further than the doorway. For a moment the two of them stood uncertain of the situation. It was immediately apparent that both of them were struggling with the scenario. Riley didn't attempt to step into the room and carefully, so that it was not obvious to Riley that he was trying to keep him out of Starsky's room, Hutch stepped out toward the hallway to greet his junior officer. He pulled the door casually as he stepped out, not closing it but clearly signaling that Riley was not welcome beyond it either. It made it feel more than a little sick to have to do it to the young man who had come to mean so much to him in the past weeks. But Starsky's earlier reaction to Riley's name was still sitting heavily in his chest and he had no wish to upset either his partner or to hurt Riley even more by forcing a meeting between the two of them.

Caught in the middle of something he was not anywhere near ready to understand – he pushed it away. Right now there was too much on the table for Starsky to deal with without him digging into this issue. Every part of their lives seemed to be a mass of raw weeping pain and emotion – they didn't need anymore. In the meantime he would do his best to keep Riley and Starsky in separate corners. He just had to find a way of doing that without hurting the kid.

"Hey Riley. Sorry….Starsky isn't up to talking to anyone just yet. Too soon, you know?"

Riley looked uncomfortable and embarrassed and his stance in the outer doorway seemed tenuous – almost as though at any moment he might turn on his heel and flee. The look of awareness on his face made Hutch feel even worse.

"Of course – sure I know that and I hated to even knock to interrupt you. I just needed to see you quickly and thought you might be in there for a while – I'm sorry Hutch. How – how is he? Is he doing ok? Came through the surgery ok?"

"Yeah – pretty standard repair of the wound I think. He doesn't appear to have any confusion following the blow to the head. But still haven't had the Doc come round for the full report on….on…..the other ….damage."

The last words dropped lamely into nothingness. How did he express the _"other damage"? Well the patient has gone through an ordeal - raped, sodomized and tormented, but we expect him to make a full recovery. His life of course will never be the same again, even if his body heals…._

The wall opposite became his focal point and he rubbed hard at his knuckles at the same time.

"It's ok Hutch – don't try to say it – I know."

" Yeah – well. He's doing as well as you can expect – Starsky's strong, always has been. But he's being strong for me ….I know that. It's me who's the real mess."

"Hutch you need to get a decent sleep and some food. Once you've taken care of yourself then you'll be better able to handle everything and help Starsky. When are you going to do that? What's the story with the Ventura guys ? "

"They're about to do Starsky's statement and I'm going to sit in with him. Then we'll see. Starsky says he has no recollection of the actual – attack – rape. It's hardly surprising when he was like he was last night – almost unconscious. It'll no doubt have a bearing on the statement – they'll want the specifics. We all know what we want to get from witness reports don't we? But this time it'll be Starsky under the spotlight. "

"Well it's good that they're going to let you be with him. He'll need you. Have you - has he made a decision about the clinical photos of his - ah- his injuries?"

"We talked about it. He doesn't want them – too much, just too much for him. I don't want him going through that either. I don't care what it costs us with Ryan. The doc's report should be solid enough."

In his mind he was seeing a file, thick and dog-eared lying tossed somewhere on someone's desk. "David Michael Starsky", and under the section of clinical evidence, an enveloped package would loosely hold a small bundle of photos. Multiple colored shots of Starsky's body from every angle depicting forever the torn and bruised flesh, the small cuts and swelling, the suture line puckered from repeated wound repair. Graphic filthy graffiti by Ryan Lancaster's hand forever preserved in hard copy. Hutch's memories were bad enough, he could well do without photos of his friend's horrific ordeal. The marks, the scars left by Ryan Lancaster.

With a hard pull he brought himself back from the bleakness of his introspection. Riley was still standing looking at him with that boyish concern and empathy. He realised than that he still had not asked him why he had come looking for him in the first place.

"What did you want to tell me? Something to do with Dobey?"

"Well partly. I've had a discussion with Dobey and he's made a unilateral decision for the time being. He said that I'm good to go. The Ventura police have given me the all clear to return home. They'll follow me up when all the reports are in and IA is on line. They've got all they want from me for now and Dobey and Dobson have said I can head back down to Bay City. Going to clean up and get some sleep. If you need me for anything just get me at home –you've got my number. I won't be back in at work until IA clears the situation. Dobey has placed me on leave until further notice."

He looked a little flat and uncertain as he spoke and watched Hutch to gauge his reaction to his words.

"Hey Riley that is all pretty standard procedure - you know that. Don't be concerned by Dobey's orders. It's all formality until IA looks it all over. Your gun?"

"Yeah handed it over and the badge – just for now. No I'm – well I guess I'm feeling better now than I did late last night. After it was all over, I was getting really worried - you know, about Ryan. But I've spoken to the doctor this morning and it seems as though he'll make a full recovery. I didn't do him any permanent damage and he should be out of hospital by tomorrow or the next day. "

Hutch said nothing.

He tempered his first reaction, that of incredulity. Why would Riley not want the bastard permanently maimed – forever broken – ruined and crippled? And even that level of affliction would be only a small payment for what he had cost Starsky.

Biting back the rising venom he was glad that he had stopped himself in time. Now was not the time to bring his own feelings into the mix.

The young man that stood in front of him now was once more like the Riley he had first known. The wise warrior from last night had retreated and the more uncertain, inexperienced boy-man was back in place. The bravado that had carried him through the shooting and subsequent containment of Ryan had been replaced by uncertainty and misgivings about what he had done to another human being. Riley was examining himself on a moral and ethical plane and weighing up his own actions and behaviors that had led to what he had done to another officer.

It was normal and very healthy and showed that Riley was still young and idealistic enough – still inherently good enough as a person – to cross examine himself and his motivations. Riley did not need the harsh edge of Hutch's personal vendetta against Ryan to cloud up the clarity of his fresh and still shiny new code of morality.

Both a young Rookie and a young man he needed space and time to adjust to what had happened to him so early in his career. To have found himself in a situation where he was forced to shoot and injure a fellow officer was frightening on a personal level and worrying on a professional one. To then realise that his actions would lead to the scrutiny of Internal Affairs - and at such an early point in his life as a cop, was no doubt highly stressful. Hutch realized that with everything else going on he had not had the energy to even consider his young officer's point of view in the incident. He had only been able to see it through Starsky's eyes and his own and the fact that Riley had also been through a traumatic event had been relegated – not intentionally, but it had. While Riley was no doubt trying to cope with his first shooting of another person, who also happened to be a cop, Hutch had perceived the act only as one that had been the salvation for Starsky.

Riley was watching him. Looking and assessing him now with a degree of that same disturbing wisdom from the previous night.

"I'm sorry Hutch – I guess it's hardly good news for you and I realize how it must seem that I'm standing here informing you that I have promising news on Ryan's physical status. But…..I…well –"

"Riley. Save it. Don't. It _is_ good news – it simplifies things for you and the IA proceedings. Don't apologize for that."

"I'm trying not to Hutch. I've tried not to all night and all morning. But – I want him to recover, I don't want him to be someone I messed up so badly that he'd never use his arm or his body properly again. And – I feel bad about that too – for you – for Starsky. Did I do enough for you Hutch? Did I do enough?"

Hutch pushed completely out of the doorway now and let the door to Starsky's room fall fully shut from where he had let it lean lightly against him, just slightly ajar. Riley needed a moment with him now in private and he was torn between being with Starsky in the lead up time before the statement and making sure that Riley was going to walk out of this hospital and go home feeling as good as he possibly could about what had happened.

"Riley, come over here. Sit down."

The senior officer and mentor was firmly back in role. His junior Rookie was giving him his full concentration and hanging off his every word. Hutch directed Riley to the small row of chairs against the wall and sitting down in one of the chairs next to him, he turned to speak.

"Last night was a momentous event for every one of us that was involved in it. All for different reasons – completely different reasons. I have had my own head so full with Starsky and what happened to him and how that has affected me that I haven't even gotten to get around to looking at it through your eyes. I'm sorry for that Riley. Sorry because I owe you – always will – for what you did for us. But also, I'm sorry because as your supervisor, your senior, it's my job, my responsibility to help you deal with what you had to do. I've let you down on that one Riley because as you know I wasn't much good to anyone last night and even now I'm no where near ready to step away from it enough to work through any of it. Amongst all of that, I've left you out here in the cold by yourself. You've been more of a support to me than I could even have begun to be for you. All the way down the line of this whole thing you've done everything right Riley. Everything.

"_Did you do enough for me? _Riley, you saved the most important person in my life from further injury, possibly death. What more could you do that would matter more to me? If you're asking me what I think you're asking me – than don't. Don't say it out loud, don't even think it. Because if I've made reference to it, which I know in my fucked up state, I have – that was wrong of me. You entered that room last night as a cop, you acted like a cop and followed through like one. You didn't get confused about being there as my friend and that is just as well because we may not be sitting here having this conversation right now if you did, and you wouldn't be about to drive home with nothing more than a temporary suspension of leave slapped on you. I think you know what I mean don't you? "

He paused and looked hard into Riley's concerned face.

"This is not your war – Ryan is not your war, and you did the very best you could do for Starsky and me last night. You kept your cool and yet you were forceful and strategic. In the end all that matters is that you got Starsky out of there by intervening when you did. Be happy with that because I sure as hell am. Be proud that you did your job to the best of your abilities and without compromising your own integrity. Don't let yourself get all blurred up in what is happening for me here – with what - Ryan (the name was still like a bitter pill on his tongue) represents to me. "

For some moments the words lay between them while Riley rubbed hard at a spot on the arm of the chair.

"Now I've got to get back in there with Starsk and get this report over with and then perhaps I'll think about going home and changing, getting some gear and clothes, whatever – may be even getting some sleep. Are we clear with each other on this – on what happened with Ryan – are you in an ok place with this now Riley? I don't want you to leave here feeling that we haven't got this sorted out."

"No – Yes - - I mean, thanks Hutch. I feel better. Much better. Thanks for understanding – how I felt. Thanks for understanding me."

"Hey and thanks for being the cool-headed one in control last night. Not just with dealing with Ryan, but dealing with me . You had to put some stripes on your sleeve real fast and with no warning. Maybe you need to have a rest for a while from being the leader."

"Yeah – I wouldn't mind that - responsibility really starts to make me feel old. Now I know how you must feel _all_ the time."

He gave his senior officer a half playful nudge and stood to leave.

Hutch cuffed him lightly.

"Don't think you're beyond getting a cross against your name for insubordination Officer Riley. Now go – get home and drive carefully. I'll be in touch."

oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOooo

* * *

When he slipped back into the room, Starsky had pulled himself up in the bed a little and although Hutch couldn't put his finger on it, he felt the stirring of unease at the way his partner watched him as he re-entered and informed him that the two cops were on their way to do Starsky's statement.

"Sorry about that – Riley just wanted a word before he headed back to the city. He's a bit rattled about last night and what might be lying ahead for him with the IA – which is understandable. Poor kid. I feel bad that I underestimated what he's going through too."

"You mean that he's worried about Ryan?"

"Yes – that and that he's worried how it will go down with the IA and his career – and well simply realizing that he's actually shot someone."

"He only maimed him – he's not dead. There's a difference – big difference."

'Sure – but – "

"And he's so concerned that he's been checking up on how the Psycho is going? If he's ok?"

"So you heard that? Look I didn't bring him in – I thought you didn't want –"

"You're right. I don't."

"Starsky?"

"Forget it ok – look I'm just not feelin' social able ok?"

"But Riley – we owe him so –"

"What for leavin' the asshole with a wing injury?"

There was no getting past it – he was shocked. Shocked to the core by Starsky's sudden vehemence and the implications of his statement – the few words said more by what they didn't say.

"Hey Starsky? What the hell? Where is this coming from? Is this about Ryan or about Riley? Are you angry at Riley? Starsky talk to me, please…You've got me worried here. "

Once more a knock stopped him in his pursuit of following something through – this time with his partner whose eyes still held a flare of accusatory light.

"Aww shit Starsky – later. Ok? Will you talk to me later about this buddy?"

But Starsky slumped back deeper into the bed and had closed the subject.

"Let them in – I want this over and then I want you to go and get some sleep."

_Finito. Ask me no more._

His partner had put down the shutters and that was it for now.

oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooO OOooo

Officer Peters was giving him a warning look.

_Well he didn't fucking care. Shove his warning look and shove his attitude to his partner_.

"Detective Hutchinson you gave your word that you would not intervene in this interview. You've done nothing but that for the past fifteen minutes."

"I'm not intervening on what Starsky's saying, just on how you're going about this. I want you to ease up. He's told you repeatedly that he can't recall anything clearly from the point when he realized that I was there and bound to the chair. He can't remember. STOP pushing him."

"Detective, we are trying to get the clearest statement possible from your partner about the events of last night. We are not here to bully or to push him, surely you must understand our position. You have been in this situation countless times before yourself. Please try to remain objective."

"Hutch – Hutch – its ok. Just let them do their job – I'm alright."

"But Starsky, this is pointless. All this is doing is getting you stressed and upset. I want this finished now."

"Hutchinson might I suggest it is you who is getting stressed here. Now – Detective Starsky, is there anymore you want to add to your statement or to your recall of last night's events?"

"I'm sorry guys but what I've given you is all I've got. I know for a fact that somethin'…..shit….somethin' …I know ok. I know that he raped me, that he freakin' ripped me up. ….I know it, but I can't recall any of it. Ryan and I fought heavily when he first came to the beach house – and he held me under duress. He held a gun to me, we fought, everything I 've already told you. Hutch was there when I came to after our fight. By then everything was really hazy – he must have really clocked me hard with his gun because it wall all mixed up and I was woozy. Maybe I was coherent then – but later – I don't know how – but I just – went..how do I explain it…?"

"Just give us some specific details of what Lancaster said and did to you during the act of rape."

"I've told ya'…I don't remember ok? It's just all black …nothin'…not even sounds or words. Last thing I remember was thinkin' about Hutch in that damn chair. Last thing I remember is his voice calling' out. "

His eyes went to his blond partner and instinctively their hands reached toward each other.

"You don't have to explain it Starsk. You don't have to try to explain it. It's ok. Just leave it. Let it go. Don't force your mind to go to a place it doesn't want to. Come on guys – please can't you see that he's had more than enough?"

The two Ventura officers could see that the patient was starting to struggle. In the beginning of the interview he was less emotional – now with the second or third time of trying to express his recollections of the evening he was noticeably faltering. His partner was likewise becoming increasingly agitated and critical of the two officers. It was evident that David Starsky's personal recollection of the events concerning himself and Ryan Lancaster, was insubstantial.

Starsky persevered despite Hutch's arm coming down to surround his shoulders and pushing him gently back into the bed.

" I could hear Hutch yelling – at first. But then later, I have no memory. I woke up fully for the first time in here – down in the pre-surgery bay. I wanted to talk to Hutch – that's the first clear memories I have of it after that."

" So what we are discerning here Detective Starsky is that you can't recall, relate or accurately reconstruct any event suggestive of a rape by Ryan Lancaster."

Hutch averted his eyes and stared hard at the floor. It wouldn't be good to let his gaze land anywhere remotely near the dark blue gaze of his partner. The air was pregnant with tension and Hutch didn't want to see the confused pain and frustration that he knew would be in Starsky's eyes.

"Again – Detective. Can you state that Detective Ryan Lancaster raped you?"

_Of course he fucking did! You saw his body when you arrived on the scene last night. You saw what that Motherfucking animal did to him. Just because he's blocked it out doesn't mean it didn't happen. Stop asking him THAT question!_

The pressure in Hutch's head was building.

It took a minute but eventually Starsky lifted his head and gave a direct look to Officer Peters, then lightly to Officer Sanderson before directing his depressive absent stare back down at the hospital quilt.

"I know I was raped."

"Can you provide details of that rape?"

"I've told you over and over –I can't remember…I…..it's not there…..can't…."

Hutch intercepted again and when Peters held up his hand to warn Hutch to keep out of the interchange, Hutch talked over him.

"Look the medical evidence clearly supports that Starsky was raped. You already stated that earlier. I'm sorry – I know, but this is not getting us anywhere except making Starsk feel like you're pushing him into a corner."

"Yes the medical report clearly states that your partner's body had been penetrated many times resulting in trauma to the surrounding tissues. There was semen found on and in his body. Multiple other small injuries to his upper body were also noted. All of these injuries are also consistent with sexual intercourse of a violent nature. Now - once again Hutchinson – let your partner answer the question.

Starsky, did Ryan Lancaster rape you?"

When Starsky merely closed his eyes and looked down, the Ventura Officer pushed again.

"Can you state Detective whether you and Ryan Lancaster shared a sexual relationship at any time in the recent or distant past?"

"WHAT THE FUCK? What are you saying here Peters? That this could have been consensual? That Starsky could have permitted what this predator did to him? You think any normal man would want that to happen to him? You think that Starsky LET him do those things to him?"

And as Peters looked sideways as his own partner Sanderson – their body language suggesting that it was time to remove Hutch bodily from the interview –Hutch brought his finger up sharp and jabbed it toward Peter's face.

"Don't – DON'T tell me to leave this room. Not while you are questioning my partner in this fashion. You're treating this interview like Starsky is on the freaking stand – this is not a court so you can back off with your cross-examination style of report taking Officer …"

"Hutchinson –" Sanderson attempted to intercept. His firm voice was ignored by the furious Hutch who was pressing dangerously close to Peter's face.

"Hutch –" Starsky's gentle intonation had Hutch turning quickly to him.

"Starsk?" He snapped from fury to worry in an instant.

"Let me - just say -"

"No – Starsky – that's it. Finished. End of statement. Interview over. Thanks guys. But I'm making a decision here."

"Hutch – wait." Starsky's pulled on his partner's arm and held him back with his eyes.

"Just let me answer that question. I've never shared - not in the past and not now any sort of sexual relationship with Ryan. If he told ya' that it's coz he believes it…I know in his sick head that he does. He's said it to me before – even back when we were undercover. He has some whacko idea that we are - I don't know, partners, with ya' know…like intimate partners. This is what has caused him to act like this toward me. I know that. He's mad. But believe me – its all in his head—all of it. There's nothin' I've ever done to make him believe that we're - that he and I... Nothin'. Other times he forced himself on me and those times he told himself it was real too. That I wanted him. He's so wrong - I don't want him. I hate him - I hate him. He can tell himself what he wants to about what he did to me - and you know what? It doesn't matter to me anymore. Ryan Lancaster is out of my life from today. "

"Wait? You said "other times", "when he forced himself" - and you mentioned while you were undercover, on that assignment. So are you saying Detective Starsky that Lancaster has directed this sort of sexual behaviour toward you several times?"

"He's never raped me before last night."

"No - but you have just stated that he has put you in difficult positions, threatened you sexually, perhaps violently - before last night?"

"Peters, Ryan has been hounding Starsky since the undercover operation. I told you that in my statement."

Hutch could see where Peters was going to drag this smutty line of thinking to.

" 'Hounding' is quite a different word to sexual molestation or attempts to sexually attack. You did not describe other incidents of this nature."

"It is up to Starsky if he wants to disclose certain information."

Hutch looked purposefully at his partner and the communication was clear between them.

_I already did that once Partner. Took that information to Dobey and look what happened. You took off and I nearly lost you to that psycho._

"Hutch wanted me to come forward and report what Ryan was doin' - how he was threatening' me and yes - how he - attacked me on one other occasion."

"One other occasion? Only one."

"Yes - no - look there were a few times - but nothin' too bad. I never really knew what he was playin' at, what he was after from me. It began when we were under together - and that operation ended badly. He - my cover got blown. His was still intact. He had to put me out of action - I never really knew - whether it was real or whether he wanted to kill me."

"Why would Detective Lancaster want you dead?"

"I said I don't know if he wanted me dead - I don't know what he intended to do when he stabbed me - but he was messed up in the head even then because I'd rejected him. He came on to me while we were under, more than once and I rejected him, told him he was jeopardising the whole show."

"And after - when you were finished with the job and you were out of hospital? He and you saw each other again?"

"Yes but not because I wanted to see him - he still had this crazy idea that I wanted him. He wanted me - sexually."

"So in these times when he was forcing his interest onto you - in a sexual manner - you never saw fit to report him to your superiors. Surely this would have been a matter for your Department's I.A?"

Starsky rubbed wearily at his face and looked toward his partner who had gone quiet , deadly quiet in the last moments.

"It wasn't as easy as you make it sound Peters. It's never easy puttin' another cop's career and life on the line."

Hutch knew this sentence was directed at him. He knew that it was his career that he was referring to and not Ryan's. How much should they drag out in front of these two cops here now? He didn't care about his own skeletons that Ryan had used against Starsky in stopping him from going to the authorities. But what would it achieve here and now pulling it all out when it was clear that Peters had already concluded there was no definitive report of Ryan having committed a crime against Starsky.

"So you saw fit to allow Lancaster to keep up the sexual harassment and to do nothing about it?"

"You know Peters ya' good at makin' it all sound so easy. It's not. It wasn't. Not when ya' in the middle of it all. I was in the middle of it, not you."

"But what would you have to lose by getting Lancaster away from you? What was stopping you from ending it?"

"Starsky just -" Hutch began. He wanted Peters to back off.

_Tell him Starsky, just damn well tell him what Ryan had over you. What does any of it matter anymore?_

_" _No Hutch - please - keep out of it."

Starsky turned from his firm directive to his partner and continued.

"Like I said before it wasn't that easy. You ever drag a fellow officer down and through all the muck and the mire in the Department for his personal preferences in life? For being homosexual?"

"No I haven't Starsky. But this was more than personal preferences, more than Lancaster being homosexual. This was by your own account violent sexual assault. The issue of homosexuality had little do with it. "

Starsky gave a sarcastic short laugh.

"Maybe you boys work differently up here than we do in the big city - but homosexuality has everything to do with it."

Peters let the comment slide.

"How did Lancaster know where to find you last night?"

"Maybe he's a good Detective. It sure ain't hard to tail someone when you do it for a livin'."

"And you didn't notice the tail of a man who has been harassing you for over a month?"

"Hey - didn't you hear? I was suspended? Maybe I lost my badge coz I was no good at pickin' up a tail. Maybe I was just not expectin' that the crazy sonofabitch would come after me."

Starsky appeared to have reached a point of exhaustion and his head fell back heavily against the headboard.

"Regarding your suspension..."

"That's it Peters. Sanderson put your recorder away. Pack up both of you. This is not a police interrogation. This is a voluntary statement. I don't care what else you want to ask. Do it another time. My partner is a patient in a hospital."

" Hutch is right. I've had enough."

Peters went to say something and stopped. He looked up to where his own partner was standing off to the side as he had been in all of these interviews. Sanderson just gently shook his head and indicated to the two Detectives.

It was clear that the interview had already terminated. Hutchinson was carefully adjusting his partners pillows, helping him to lie back down and get into a more comfortable position. The total absorption that each had for the other effectively locked out any awareness of the other two men in the room. The two Detectives were now a closed insular unit. Their body language dismissed the Ventura officers more succinctly, more definitively than if Hutchinson had turned and said in his highly threatening way what Peters knew he wanted to say -

"Get out."


	20. Chapter 20

**Then Neither Can He**

**Chapter 20**

* * *

"Where are you goin?"

"I'll be back in a few minutes Starsk…just close your eyes and rest. I'll just follow up with the guys and be right back in."

"No Hutch, I know what ya' gonna do. Just leave it alone. Not worth it. ….It's their job. It's what we do in our job everyday."

"it's alright. Don't worry."

Hutch pulled away from Starsky's grasp before he let his partner talk him out of it. Judging that the two cops would a fair way down the hall now and out of Starsky's earshot he pulled open the door to follow them.

"Peters!"

The two cops turned at Hutch's clipped tone and waited for him to reach them.

Sanderson had been watching the tall blond and was ready for him when he reached out to grab at his partner, his fingers digging into the front of Peter's shirt as he slammed him bodily into the wall.

"Hutchinson – back off! Let him go. You don't need us to haul your ass in for assault of a fellow officer. Let him go and calm it."

"I'd like to hear Peters here explain to me why he was pushing at my partner in there? What the fuck do you think you were doing just then in that interview? Starsky is the damn victim here. It's Ryan you should be poking at with your accusations."

Peters merely remained in Hutch's threatening grasp and did not strain to be released. The fact that the blond had quickly followed them from the interview did not surprise him. His anger had been barely contained and Peters suspected the fact that Hutchinson had managed to hold himself in check, was down to his concern for his partner. Peters faced him squarely.

"All part of normal police questioning and background information gathering Hutchinson. You've just lost your objectivity because your partner is on the other side of the fence this time. Nothing different than how you and he would handle any of your interrogations."

Hutch shook Peters roughly and finally thrust him away from him with a faint look of disgust.

"Why do you say interrogation? Starsky hardly warrants interrogation. He was supposed to be giving a statement for the record. "

Peters straightened up his clothes and swept his hair back into place.

"Come on here Hutchinson. You know this is standard procedure when we're investigating a reported crime. Nothing's different here – it's just that now you're involved and in too deep personally. We need solid reports from all parties. Just because you're all police officers doesn't change things. You need to step back and look at the whole process as it really is. Lancaster is not necessarily going to sign his name on the bottom of your statement. Surely it isn't going to surprise you that his statement has little in accordance with yours and Detective Starsky's."

"Don't you think I know that? He's a freaking psycho. He's whole head is fucked up. What I don't like is what I just witnessed you do to Starsky. He doesn't deserve to be the treated like you just treated him. You had no damn right to do that."

" We have every right and you know that Hutchinson – its just that you don't like it. This whole….situation, whatever went on or was going on between your partner and Lancaster became a police matter when shots were fired and we received a call from another officer for backup. You and your partner decided for whatever reason NOT to make it a police matter for long enough. Now it is– and we get to handle it like we choose – like we normally would go about a case. You don't get to decide what questions we do and don't ask you, Lancaster, Riley or your partner – particularly your partner as he is the identified victim. It sounds to me like we may never have even got a call to that beach house last night if you and Starsky hadn't lost control of whatever was going on."

"Lost control? You think we simply lost control –"

Once more Hutch moved back toward the Ventura Cop in a fresh wave of menace.

Out of the corner of his eye his was aware that Dobey and Dobson were bearing down on the three of them having exited a room further up the hall.

Sanderson looked toward the two Captains as they approached. Dobey had a frustrated look on his big face - obviously aware now that there was another volatile scene involving his Detective.

As the big black Captain called out a warning to Hutch, Sanderson held his hand up to indicate that he wanted the two Captains to stay back.

Sanderson then turned his attention quickly to Hutch, his voice low and strangely mellow.

"Hutchinson. Hutchinson… easy, just takes it easy. Seriously – you need to chill out here. You are getting too close to crossing a line that you don't want to cross. We're not on anyone's side here – just doing our job. Back off from attacking us. We're not the enemy – nor will the I. A be when they come in. What are you going to do achieve by throwing your weight against every party that examines this case? We told you last night – keep this up and you'll just remove yourself from the picture altogether. You want to help Starsky? You want to be here for him in the weeks to come?"

"What do you think? Of course I do – and I want to get Ryan the sick bastard away from him for good."

But his tone was less aggressive now and Sanderson's words were getting through to him.

"That is very clear to everyone involved Hutchinson. And we would like to see you be there as his support. We don't want to have to walk out of here with you between us with our cuffs on your wrists. I suggest you take some deep breaths and think about the position you're putting us in here – based on your continued intimidation. "

Peters nodded at his partner – Sanderson's calming and quiet logic was a cooling balm that settled over the seething heat of the tall blond. Even as he felt his anger dissipating Hutch could recognize the rhythm of their working relationship. Like he and Starsky the two Ventura Cops had their own balance and style. Sanderson who had remained quiet through all of the meetings was now showcasing his own forte away from the formal settings of the interviews.

Hutch pulled back knowing that the two officers were deadly serious and that he was close to losing his ground with the men. The sense too that Dobson was in the background watching and waiting for him to overstep his mark helped him respect Sanderson's advice.

"Ok…Ok…..Shit. I'm trying here. I'm really trying to hold this together. So…what's going to happen next? With Ryan?"

Peters spoke again to answer him. He had relaxed his stance as Hutch had relaxed his own. The tension abated.

"Our job is done here for now. We'll get this last statement sewn up and hand everything over to your Captain and Dobson."

With a cursory glance at the two Captains still waiting off to the side, Peters lowered his voice and turned to address Hutch more privately.

" Hutchinson – look – we want to give you the heads up here, to be prepared. You know that Starsky's statement is thin. Trauma, emotional blocking – whatever – he can't give us much at all. He doesn't want the forensic photos and that's his choice. But take out his own record of the actual crime of violent rape and balance up with what we have from Lancaster. It really will come back to I.A's ball court.

And anyway – and don't jump my bones when I say this ok? But it doesn't look like your partner is anywhere ready to take on a full-blown investigation of this thing. You and he know exactly what lies ahead with these sorts of cases – and none of its good."

"So he'll walk away? Ryan will walk away? What about Riley? He was there for Christ sake – he saw what Ryan had done to us both?"

"Look – just read the statements and see it through our eyes ok? I.A will pack their own punch and you just have to consider if that is enough for Starsky. I get the feeling here Hutchinson that it won't be enough for you – but….? Anyway – make sure you keep a cool head otherwise there will be a whole other layer added to this mess. Sanderson's the smart quiet one of the two of us, so I would listen to him if I were you. You're pushing too hard and one more push and ….well like my partner said – we'd rather not have you in the back of the squad car with us when we leave here later. Nor do we want to have to come back and get you when we get a call from Lancaster's Captain. "

He smiled now at Sanderson and then looked more kindly at Hutch. A moment passed and he held out his hand to the blond. All three men looked at each other and then Hutch extended his hand to them both.

"Believe it or not – in our partnership it is Starsky who's the hot head – I'm the quiet one. It's normally me holding him back – not like this. I suppose that is not the way it looks to you guys – but …."

He seemed suddenly to retreat in to himself, the shared reflection somehow brought with it a creeping depression.

"But, then things haven't been too normal for us for a while now."

Sanderson was nodding quietly in understanding when Peters commented.

"Your Captain is here now, waiting. He looks like he wants a word with you. We'll leave you with him. Captain Dobey has the reports."

oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooO OOoooOOOooo

Dobey directed Hutch into the private room as the two officers walked away. Dobson had splintered off and headed to Ryan's room.

"Ah – Cap'n, I told Starsky I wouldn't be too long. I want to be there in case the Doc comes in to see him."

"Sit down there for five minutes. I only need five minutes of your time. So….Out there, you were moving in on Peters just a little too closely Hutchinson."

"We sorted it."

"Good – I'm glad to see that Sanderson calmed you down."

Hutch ignored Dobey's observation of what really transpired in the hallway.

"They said that you've got the report from Ryan."

"Starsky gave his statement?"

"Yeah – you'll find out soon enough. There's nothing much to stick the rape. He had no real recollection of it…..it's all blocked out and he doesn't want the crime photos."

Dobey rubbed his hands down his face. His hands pulled at his tie and scratched at his head. Stale and tired, fed up with being in a hospital setting yet again, every physical stimulus was starting to irritate him.

"Well that put together with _this_ won't bode well for a rape case against Ryan."

The freshly typed report skittered across the table as though Dobey had tossed it away as a worthless item.

"Read it – you won't like it. But its not surprising when we're dealing with Lancaster. Dobson's gone in now to prepare him for I.A's intervention. In brief – as you want to get back to Starsky – the statement has the whole incident as a consensual organized meeting, preconceived by the two of them – you along as special feature. Riley, by Ryan's account, came crashing into the party and you gave him clear encouragement to shoot Ryan. There's a suggestion that Riley acted to impress you as his Senior officer. It's cheap and nasty and full of holes but without a firm statement from Starsky it could discredit a rape charge. "

Hutch was already skimming through it.

Dobey watched him and wondered for the hundredth time since he was called to the hospital how it had all got to this point. His two top Detectives were caught up in one hellish melodrama that involved two precincts and now several officers. Hutchinson was not doing well. He had watched him slowly disintegrate over the past ten hours or more and was beginning to seriously fear that the functioning half of the famed twosome was going to put himself in a deadlock with his own behavior. Hutchinson was cracking under the pressure of what had happened last night and it was only his simmering rage that was keeping his from folding altogether.

He watched Hutch bent over the paperwork, his face intent and growing tenser with each moment, his fingers gripping harder on the paper – and he waited for the inevitable. From the moment he had seen the report he had steeled himself for this very moment when the man before him, its harshest critic would see the printed words that damned his best friend. This deluded representation of the course of events involving the three officers would only serve to drag them all deeper into the sludge of Ryan's Lancaster's world.

Dobey could see when Ryan's words were hitting home to his Detective.

"No – no …..someone must stop this lunacy. Someone has got to stop him. What he is saying here…..filthy dirty lies. Captain this is total and utter fucking crap. You know that! "

"I know. I know – but it's there. His word – simply his word against Starsky's and yours. Riley's is a separate agenda. He did not witness any crime per se, arriving after the fact. Ryan's a smart man Hutch – very smart and very divisive."

"This will finish Starsk. He can't see this."

"He will see it of course. You know that. You can't protect him from every part of Ryan."

"I haven't fucking protected him one part of the way. He's ripped Starsky's life apart and now this is the end. I…. I need to …"

He was up and at the door.

"Hutch! Dobson's in with him now. He knew I was showing you this statement and so he has gone in there as a precautionary move. Go there now – that's the end. Dobson might even be expecting you – you'll walk right into it. Dobson's armed – you're not."

Hutch whirled around.

"So the Captain of the Nineteenth is going to blow me away?"

"This is a volatile situation Hutch. Look at yourself. Since this has happened you've gone from one target to the next including yourself – trying to punch your way through how you feel. It's high time you looked at how you're acting. The officers investigating this case have sanctioned you, Dobson wants a restraining order on you against Ryan for God's sake, and now I'm telling you too. If you can't pull yourself together and soon – I'm going to be forced to do something I will hate doing even more than you. I'll do it for your own good but it won't be easy. Hutch – I'll have you removed forcibly from this whole area. Don't make me do it. Your partner needs you. Have you considered that you might be of better use to him being by his side than trying to destroy everything in your path? "

"But I can't make any of this better."

"No you can't. Not right now and certainly not the way you're acting. Let me handle Dobson, let me handle this statement and the I.A. and the Ventura officers. That's my job not yours. You need to get some sleep, some decent food and pull your head in fast. I'm already irritable enough so don't push me here. Go back in there with your partner – take care of him and yourself and leave me to do this damn job. I see you raise your fist one more time to anyone – even a damn wall, "

He looked pointedly at his Detective's bound knuckles,

"I will have your ass hauled back to the city and away from this hospital before you have time to damn throw the punch. Now get out of here. Your partner needs you! And next time I see you I expect that you've had some rest. I am requesting a damn fold out bed to be taken into Starsky's room. I know the drill with the two of you well enough by now. It's the only way you'll get some sleep. And then maybe I too can get home and get some damn rest."

Hutch stood at the door, his hand still on the handle, his body still tentative.

He looked down at the floor and then up at Dobey.

"I hear you. But you're not removing me from this hospital – not while Ryan is just down the hall. You're not removing me Captain."

"Then don't give me any more reason to do so! Now go. I want to get home and see my wife before I have a meeting with IA this afternoon. I'll call you on the hospital phone later today – when you've rested."

oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooO OOoooOOOooo

As he pushed the door open he heard the voices.

Starsky was not alone.

In the room stood a nurse, just off to the side of Starsky's bed. Her face was a little flushed her cap a little askew, like she had been put to task with a difficult clinical situation, a challenging patient. _Starsky_. She held a small silver tray in her hands and was looking toward the man in the center of the room – her young face earnest and flustered at the same time.

The white-coated Doctor was perusing a chart – Starsky's chart – and he looked up at Hutch's arrival with that nonchalant disinterest that Hutch had come to expect from doctors . He and Starsky were well versed in the body language of the medical fraternity – hospitals and cops went together.

He was not into the game playing of the hierarchy that he sometimes encountered with the hospital system and bypassed both of them to focus in on only his partner.

"What's going on? Starsky?"

Starsky had pulled himself onto his side, curled into a body protecting form with one hand covering his eyes, the other tightly curled into a fist.

Hutch walked quickly to the bedside and bent down over his friend.

"Hey buddy? Is everything ok? I'm back. I took too long, I'm sorry. Got caught up with Dobey. Starsk? Hey?"

Starsky merely reached out to seize his proffered hand and grasped it tightly, his eyes looked wary and fearful.

He turned now to face the two other people in the room.

"What has happened? I only left here a while ago. Is something wrong?"

The doctor addressed him.

"Detective your partner became very agitated and upset. The Nursing staff found him trying to get out of the bed in a distressed state. They then attempted to administer some IV medication to calm him down – it was on a stand by order. Detective Starsky became very oppositional when the nurse tried to give the drug. I have just been called in to assess him. He refuses the medication and has been asking for you."

As if that answered everything Hutch nodded, relaxed and leaned down to be eye level with his partner.

"Starsk. I'm back now. It's all right. Do you want anything for pain? For anything?"

"No – nothin' …please no more drugs. No more sleep for now please. Please Hutch. Where … . were you? You didn't - come back."

"I'm so sorry – God so sorry Starsk. It's my fault. Got busy doing stuff that doesn't matter. I'm here now and won't go again. I promise. I promise you Starsk."

Dobey's and Sanderson's words floated back to him.

_Oh Hell!_

_They were so right._

_So fucking busy fighting ghosts that he couldn't destroy and all the while his buddy had been lying here – scared, losing it – needing him like he was going to need him more and more._

"You don't need to be so strong anymore Starsky. I'm going to be here for you now and I'm ok. I'm going to take care of you now – so just lie back and rest. We're both going to rest. I need it and so do you."

Starsky seemed to unfurl a little. His body responded to the comforting words and he exhaled deeply as though he was already preparing to rest.

Hutch turned now to the Doctor and the nurse.

"He doesn't really want anything for pain and he can probably rest without it. Can we skip the medication till he asks for it?"

"Yes of course. But he will need it eventually. Apparently your Captain has requested that we bring in a recliner chair for you or a fold out bed. I gather you will be staying through the day and tonight? Is that correct?"

"Yes. I will be here as long as it takes to get my partner discharged. Thanks, I'd appreciate somewhere to crash. It's just easier all round if I can stay in here with him. We're cops, partners. We do better when we're not separated. Starsky will rest a lot easier if he I can stay by him."

The doctor gave a kind smile now. Some of the earlier indifference lifted.

"Of course. I'll have it arranged straight away. Is there anything you want to ask me about the medical report? I believe you have seen the preliminary report and I know the officers from the local Ventura Department have had access to my notes."

"The wound – the knife wound?"

"There is not likely to be any residual problems with the wound. It needed re-opening and draining – obviously the scar will take longer to heal now that the wound has been re-excised, but in the long term, with no further trauma it will heal."

_But he will always have that scar, that white line across his lower abdomen as a mark that Ryan left him. _

"I'm satisfied that the head injury has not left him with any complications. No intra-cranial swelling, no skull fracture – just scalp lacerations and mild concussion."

The doctor went on.

"Your partner has requested that no clinical photos be taken of the …..of the result of sexual activity."

"Yes that is right. He doesn't want it done."

"Well from a medical point of view the findings on examination were all documented. If you would like to discuss any of that…er…information…feel free to request it and I am happy to come in and go through the findings. I can understand it is a sensitive issue that you both may not wish to talk about at this stage. The report has been made available to the Ventura Police Department."

"Yes I'm aware of that." _For all the good it will do._

"Can you give me an idea of when I may be able to arrange to have Starsky discharged or at least transferred back down to the city?"

"I'd be happier if he stayed here the rest of today, tonight and probably tomorrow. He could go home then with no transfer the day after tomorrow."

"No. No. I want outta here tomorrow. Doc? Tomorrow. Hutch – I mean it. No longer. I - can't stand it any longer. I just want to go home. Need to get out of here."

Hutch turned and gave the Doctor a questioning look.

"Let's see how you are this evening. If you get some rest, some decent sleep and can start to gently mobilize by this afternoon…well it's a possibility. But I'm not promising anything and I really would not advise such a premature discharge. Now for the moment you need some serious rest. I ask that the nursing staff leave you alone until you request more pain medication."

He closed up the chart and left.

The nurse approached Starsky's bed and began arranging his pillows and bedclothes, which had obviously become twisted up in his agitation.

Hutch could see immediately that her proximity and her touch was distressing Starsky. He moved forward to gently restrain the nurse's hands.

"Please – just leave him. I'll take care of the him, it's alright."

"But –"

"Please – just leave us now. I'll buzz if I need any assistance ok?"

"If you'd prefer. But he'll need some help if he tries to mobilize to the bathroom."

"I can manage that too. Really. It's fine. Thanks."

She nodded a little uncertainly and gathered up the tray with the unused syringes of medication.

"I'll get the orderlies to bring in the recliner for you."

"Thanks – appreciate that."

Then finally they were alone again. Hutch was silent as he sat down on the side of the bed and began untangling the sheets from Starsky's curled up legs.

Sitting heavy in his gut was the realization that he had yet to share the contents of Ryan's statement with Starsky.

But as he lifted Starsky's head gently up onto the pillow he was diverted from that thought when the deep blue eyes that stared up at him were almost wild with imploring.

"I want you to take me home Hutch. I need to go home. Please. "

oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOooo


	21. Chapter 21

**Then Neither Can He**

**Chapter 21**

* * *

**Many thanks to Brook who keeps me on track with her twisted musings and never ending appetite for Ryan Lancaster's evil ways.**

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"You're here damn early this morning. And you looked pretty pissed off."

The dark eyes showed indolent surprise as the older man walked into his room after announcing himself with one quick firm tap.

Dobson looked none too happy at the fact that his Detective had made an accurate observation.

"Damn right I am, and I can tell you that I am glad that this will be the last drive up here. Traffic getting out of the city is ridiculous, even at this hour of the morning. Wanted to get up here and run through a few things with you before you get discharged."

"Doc just has to do a final round – should be here soon. Then I'm bailing. Will you be right to drive me back or do you want me to organize a squad car to come get me?"

"I can take you back as long as it is not too late. There are at least two meetings I have to get to straight after lunch."

The Captain changed tact and looked back at the door as if seeing through it and beyond to the hallway and another door.

"You haven't had any more unscheduled visits from Hutchinson since I left yesterday?"

"No – he's holed up in that room with Starsky as tight as a sealed vacuum. Not even the nursing staff is getting access without Hutchinson's say so. Fucking strange relationship."

Personally Dobson was pleased to hear that the blond sergeant had barricaded himself and Starsky away from his own Detective – the whole situation was way too precarious – having the three of them accommodated so closely to together in an environment that was no longer monitored by police. The Ventura Officers had withdrawn their presence yesterday after finalizing all of the statements.

"How do you know that about the nursing staff and the other two?"

"Nurses like to talk. Like all women. Chit chat till they make your ears bleed. Stupid broads, only good for back rubdowns. Been lucky enough to pull a few of those since I've been in here. If they'd just learn to keep their mouths shut while they did it…."

Dobson cringed at Ryan's crass attitude and like so often before found that he was always a little shocked by the other man's misogynistic tendencies. Many a time it had been a battle to smooth over the damage he caused in the squad room when he belittled the female officers or administrative staff. Often he pulled him up on his sexist and demeaning remarks or crude offhand comments to the female public who might pass through the precinct. This morning however he elected to just let it float over him. There were more important issues to contend with today and Ryan's social etiquette was way down the scale of his priorities. Besides he had no desire to antagonize the nastier side of this surly man anymore than he had to. Experience taught him that Ryan suffered criticism as poorly as he suffered the female sex and his nasty side had a vicious edge.

"Ryan we need to talk about your place with these criminal allegations. Dobey and I had a preliminary meeting with I.A yesterday afternoon."

"Yeah? And? Did they go through the statements from the local cops here?"

"Yes – we looked at everything we've got so far and Dobey let them know that it was unlikely that there would be any progression of him taking this matter further legally. Starsky is not going to agree to forensic photos, the medical report alone is not conclusive enough without his statement of allegation against you."

"What a surprise! Starsky must have enjoyed himself way too much. What do you know? So, he's not going ahead with the claim that I forced anything on him?"

"Well he claims that he has no recollection of the rape itself despite the fact that the physical evidence suggests there was ….ah….violent sexual intercourse…. Basically he cannot accurately state that a rape occurred. Also I gather that it is unlikely they he is going to pursue a case against you in a court of law. Captain Dobey doesn't consider he is prepared to push it. Not that even he has had an opportunity to talk to him – the only person Starsky is having immediate contact with apart from giving his statement to Peters and Sanderson, is Hutchinson."

This information elicited a harsh laugh from Ryan.

"Of course! What else would we expect? The two of them have closed ranks like they always do and Hutch's conspiracy against me gets more potent when he has Starsky locked away from everyone else. Dobey should just damn well override him. Someone needs to teach that bastard Hutchinson that he can't own people."

"I think Dobey knows his men well enough to work out how to play it. So have you been thinking about your own position in this and how you might proceed with the Internal Affairs? "

_Christ how do I handle this, handle Ryan? I have to go about this is such a way so as not to incite him or give him license to implicate me in all of this? How do I placate him and yet remove him from me so he is no longer an underlying threat to my career and to me personally?_

Dobson didn't want to show how difficult this whole situation was for him. Standing here discussing the intricacies of something so personal with one of his senior Detectives was way out of his comfort zone. He was moving around in the dark here with Ryan – not sure where the black-eyed man stood amongst the allegations, not sure where he stood with his own feelings toward his officer and not sure how any of this even happened.

In the last twenty-four hours he had examined himself and his professional relationship with Ryan Lancaster. Since Hutchinson had come to him and Dobey with the allegations of what Ryan had done to his partner, Dobson had been forced to examine the level of insight he had to his enigmatic and uneven tempered Detective.

Had he known, always known that Ryan was homosexual? Not just homosexual - that was not was burning in Dobson's stomach, but prone to deviant sexual behavior? Had he? Had he suspected that there had been other times, other officers who had found exception with being partnered with Ryan Lancaster? Definitely he had not had a good track record for harmonious partnerships and more times than he cared to remember he and even his predecessor had to re-arrange teams and shuffle staff within the department when officers had been obscure about their preference not to be paired with Ryan. Partnerships with Ryan were had the shortest lifespans of any in his unit and in the past months he had been hard pressed to link him up with any experienced officers. Even when they came in as transfers they seemed to have done some homework before arriving and generally their forms requested that they not be partnered with Detective Lancaster. Of late he had dealt with this by using his Detective as training officer for young officers and rookies. This had already begun to earn him some disapproval from concerned senior officers who found this arrangement unsettling.

In general, Ryan Lancaster was a thorn in his side. But he was still one of the best street cops and undercover men he had ever had – it was just that his reputation as a highly abrasive and arrogant man had travelled too far and too wide. There was more to it than just his caustic attitude, and his disdain for others, but until the last few weeks Dobson would have easily denied this fact. Ryan had never been an easy man to like or to work with. But he was an excellent detective and his prowess on the streets and his aptitude for undercover work had made it a little easier to gloss over what he lacked in intrapersonal attributes. Dobson unlike Dobey, did not place a lot of importance on his relationship with his men and nor did he lose sleep if the staff balance in the squad room was not always harmonious. As a captain his goals were to exact results, to get the work done, the numbers up and the criminal profile of the precinct's community flattened out. If that meant turning a blind eye to some undesirable personality traits in his officers, than so be it.

He had to run a tight ship - that's what PD Captains had to do. His professional track record was always under scrutiny and he couldn't afford to get sidetracked by extraneous staff issues. Therefore he told himself and, his peers, there was no room to listen to the odd complaints from his officers about other officers. He liked to rationalize that not everybody could be happy all the time with whom they worked and because of this he turned a blind eye and a deaf ear to gossip . Hell yes, he had to admit, he even turned a blind eye to written reports if it meant that his unit kept ticking over productively. His in tray was cluttered and it was deep. Many days, weeks could pass before he could give attention to each single report or memo. Sometimes - and if he was lucky, the problem would manage to clear itself up. The staff would somehow work it out between themselves. Sometimes a request for transfer would follow on the heels of the forgotten memos...and that in itself took care of the problem for him.

But now all of this – his own smug rationalizations for how he handled Lancaster was going to be up for review. First by Hutchinson who had put him in his sights as soon as Starsky got roughed up badly on the Kalzo case and then by Dobey who had begun to listen to Hutchinson . Yesterday it was the Ventura PD who looked at him with accusatory eyes and posed questions to him that he had difficulty answering about his top Detective. Tomorrow it would be the Department's Internal Affairs who would not take long to discern that Ryan Lancaster had been able to work freely and unhampered despite a long history of peer allegations of misconduct.

He had never regretted any decision in his career more than the decision to listen to Ryan suggest that David Starsky be partnered up with him to go undercover in the Kalzo drug bust. Truth is he needed a partner for Ryan, a back up – he was fresh out of candidates and volunteers at his own precinct. But to have agreed to listen to Ryan about approaching Starsky…

But it had happened. Something was off about the whole undercover case and how it all ended up. But at the time and once more it was far easier to let the unpalatable scenario that his Detective had acted unilaterally and not only endangered Starsky but – and this he didn't want to consider, caused Starsky to be endangered be brushed away. And it was brushed away. Starsky himself made statements that concurred with Ryan's on how the operation had gone down. But still….since then, Dobson had a sickness in his gut that would not go away.

What a fucked up mess it had all become. And as the weeks had gone by Dobson's uneasiness had increased and his opinion of Ryan was being sorely tested.

And then it had all culminated in the horror show of what had occurred at the ocean house. The magnitude of this event meant which involved four police officers from two different precincts had shone the spotlight on his performance as a Captain.

As he faced the scowling superior countenance of his Detective, for the first time he envied Harold Dobey's easy but gruff camaraderie with his own men. He suspected that Dobey would have the language and the ease with which to open up the lines of communication with his officers when the subject matter turned to deep and dangerous waters like sexual preference and proclivities.

Something else was grinding in Dobson's stomach. Something else had woken him up early this morning and kept him awake until he gave up fighting it and decided to head up here early and face the matter head on. This dirty scandal that Ryan had created or found himself in, because yet Dobson still could not be sure of the origins of the drama, had meant that it was not only Ryan who was going to be judged and examined. It was him too. And the grinding in his gut this morning was that of fear – fear of Ryan Lancaster. For, although no one knew this difficult man well, Dobson knew enough of him and his ways to realize that he was more than capable of pulling his Captain down with him. If the I.A took Ryan Lancaster down which was more than likely than Ryan had the power and the pure corruption to make them take his Captain too.

Dobson had paced about the room as he spoke and now when he stopped and looked at Ryan he found the inky black eyes on him. Ryan had pulled himself back onto the bed and was sitting up high leaning against the bed head as he ran his forefinger over his upper lip in lazy concentration. His countenance was one of cool reservation as if nothing about what his Captain was saying or could in fact say was going to perturb him or seemingly relaxed mood.

His guarded eyes and conceited nonchalance increased the other man's uneasiness and for one terrible moment Dobson balked at proceeding. He really wasn't sure what to say or how to say it and in some inexplicable way the austerity of Ryan had him feeling defensive and unsure of his place.

"So you're saying Starsky is not going to press criminal charges against me and for the purposes of I.A's involvement he is also not pinning a rape on me. So then with my statement of the event being a mutually consensual one – what action is I.A going to take in the matter?"

"Ryan – just because it is not going to move into a criminal charge, hardly precludes you from scrutiny from Internal Affairs. None of this – none of it, looks particularly rosy from I.A's point of view. We won't know for a day or two – but the situation is not good, surely you must realize that – that it would come down to this."

"Come down to what Captain?"

His eyes were challenging now and Dobson preferred not to look into the dark opaque discs. Nor did he want to see Ryan's thin lips narrow as he tipped his head slightly on its side and regarded him as though he was goading him, playing with him.

"You must have known that this does not look good for your career. Even without a rape to pin on you, we have Hutchinson's statement, Riley's intervention and the fact that you and Starsky were found in a…highly…ahhh…."

"You find it distasteful to say Captain? Don't like the word?It's really not that hard... Sex. Having male on male sex?"

"Ryan, its not that I find it distasteful. It's just, whatever it is, however you describe it …the I.A will – "

"Not approve? No gays in the City PD is that it Captain? No dirty fags in the squad rooms or walking the beat, holstering a gun or carrying a Detective's badge? Too dirty for the Department's image? Won't find a queer inside the Precinct's walls - the city's finest are clean and straight. Isn't that right Captain?"

"Ryan – surely –"

"Surely! You've got it , Captain. 'Surely'. Because you know and I know that there are enough of 'us' sick queers like me, even in the Police Department. We're here, toting badges and, behind desks, in the upper echelons, on the streets, getting medals pinned on our chests, serving our city. But, and here's the bitch, we might be here but we're meant to be invisible aren't we? Isn't that the truth Captain Dobson? You would've preferred that I'd stayed invisible , kept my profile low. Would have been easier for you all round wouldn't it?..."

The handsome scowl became for boding and the white even perfect teeth were now bared through the thin hard lips and contrasted dramatically with the dark bearded shadow.

Well this time I have fucking stuck my head up and this time you're going to have to deal with it. Starsky is worth it. I made up my mind that he was worth it this time. I wanted to fuck him good and proper and no one, no official departmental bastard could stop me getting my pleasure this time. Christ it was so perfect. He was so perfect. I got my worth of Starsky and this time his own personal bodyguard couldn't do a fucking thing about it."

_Did he know that his dark flat eyes looked tinged with madness? Did he hear his voice, how it quivered with fervent excitement? Did he know how on the edge of total craziness he really was?_

Dobson seriously doubt it. This man before him was mutating rapidly into something that was no longer hinged to humanity. He had long ago become unhinged from the law, and way before that, and for this Dobson now felt remorse at his own role in allowing this disintegration, unhinged from morality.

For the first time he allowed himself to see this officer, this man for what he truly was.

Unbalanced, disturbed, psychologically tainted with some inherent badness.

His officer was a personification of evil.

"So you have taken Starsky's career away because of your need to have him. I hope for your sake Ryan that when all of this takes your career away too that you still think it...he...whatever it is you have wanted... was worth it."

"Not going to go in to bat for me Captain? Given up on your own Main Man? "

"I already have done plenty of times before and you know it. This time is different – way different. This time you've taken on two highly respected and professionally acclaimed Detectives from another precinct."

"Oh I see – so when I just dallied around with low life middle officers from our own precinct it didn't offend your sensibilities, but now all of a sudden it does? Now you have a duty to uphold the sanctity of the fucking department."

"It's more than that and you know it! Far more than that. It's never been close to the law, its never involved injury like this and you've never courted a situation so dangerous as this one. You've endangered lives of other officers, two of whom aren't just going to go away and crawl under a rock for you. And – consider this Ryan, one of whom is never going to leave you alone now you have done what you have to his partner."

He knew that his words were enraging his Detective but he pushed ahead – determined to convey the severity of the situation and in some way divorce himself from the culpability of this man's depraved actions. There was more to all of this than just his own role in sequence of events that had brought them to this place. Deep inside of him he was feeling bad for the man that now lay in the bed down the hospital hall. David Starsky was a good man and a fine cop. As much as he resented the way Hutchinson had pushed his buttons in the past weeks, he also respected and admired the loyalty and trust the two of them shared.

There came a point when his own sick conscience could take no more.

Never, not for a moment did he imagine that David Starsky would have entered a sexual relationship with Ryan Lancaster.

Ryan's steely black eyes were penetrative and threatening, but he was fast getting to the point where he almost wanted to throw Ryan's condescension of him back in his flawless face. With more strength than he had felt in a long while he looked directly at the hooded eyes as they challenged him.

Ryan was not happy.

"You said _'to'_ …'to his partner'. I find that offensive – _Captain. _ I believe you meant to say 'with' , 'with his partner' . I've told you before, Starsky and I share a special relationship. I didn't do things _to_ him...we did what we wanted _with_ each other."

"You know something Ryan ? At this point in this whole mess, I really don't think that semantics are going to save you. Not this time. Not from me. Not from the I.A either - I would seriously doubt. And for damned certain, _nothing_ will save you from Hutchinson. For even if your career was in some way salvageable, even if you could scrap up enough of your pride and glory to keep going as a cop... he will never leave you breathe peacefully again while you wear a badge and work anywhere near Starsky."

With those parting words Dobson began to back out of the room. In his mind the meeting was over.

In his mind he had reached a new plateau in his own career. A plateau where he felt unencumbered to start making some choices again. Choices that came from his heart and soul and not from his need to support a stalled career.

"Next time Hutchinson comes looking for you...don't come crying to me. I'm not likely to be your Captain anymore."

"I suggest you spend the next few hours thinking over that one. You can do that while you wait to arrange some transport back to the city – your own private transport, not a black and white. I'm leaving now so I can't offer you that lift after all."

oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooO OOooo

He had been awake for an hour or more.

Last night after having slept in the daytime sleep had eluded him. Worrying thoughts and concerns about his partner had not.

In that hour he had sat quietly with a luke-warm coffee in his hands as he watched his partner's fitful sleep. In that hour the worrying thoughts and concerns about his partner had intensified.

The man on the bed began to move around even more restlessly. When awakeness touched him, Hutch knew that the dawning of this new day would usher in worse distress for him than even last night. The distress was there in plain sight even now. Even now while sleep still encapsulated him. Fear and dread were clearly etched on his face even now – the pulled muscles of his mouth and around his eyes only a hint of what was happening in his subconscious.

The evening before Hutch had ended up calling the nurse in to administer some pain relief to Starsky, as much for its benefit in helping him to sleep as to alleviate his discomfort. In the first hours after the staff had left them, Hutch had coerced and soothed Starsky enough to settle down and attempt to sleep. He himself desperately needed rest but would not give in to it until his fretful partner could relax and let go of him. When Starsky had calmed down enough to drift off with his hand still locked into his own, Hutch had let his own exhaustion finally consume him and he fell headfirst into oblivion.

But then they had both awaken in the afternoon and Hutch felt better for his own rest Starsky only seemed to be more restless and his level of agitation had steadily increased through the late afternoon and the early evening. His frantic insistence that Hutch take him home was worrying. He uttered the request, which at some point became a pitiful plea, at increasingly regular intervals. The desperate words soon became an obsessive talisman that repeated over and over to himself and to Hutch to ward off his rising anxiety. Hutch understood all of this on an intellectual level. This was the stuff of how the mind worked immediately after great trauma. The mind's slow realization of what Ryan had done to him was starting to insinuate itself into Starsky's mind, his gut, and his heart. Bit by bit the sickness crept in and the mind's brave and valiant effort to keep it fenced off, started to falter. His mind had been kind to him in the beginning. It had shielded him and locked itself away from the pain and the hurt. Starsky couldn't remember. And now the fact that Starsky couldn't remember the most graphic parts of the event was even more reason for him to be fearful.

Hutch knew that Starsky was terrified of when the memory would invade him. When the kindness of the mind had reached its end.

Starsky's attempt to have him validate every assurance with a promise was unnerving. He had always been the only one that Starsky trusted but this was almost as though he was fearful that his touchstone in Hutch was going to disappear. And the way that Starsky was closing the ranks on anyone other than him left him overwhelmed with the responsibility of Starsky's psychological welfare.

He had tried to reason with him that he might take up the suggestion that the Doctor had made to Hutch earlier that they bring in a counselor to begin some early supportive post trauma sessions.

But Starsky would have none of it.

"Just you Hutch. No one else. I don't want anybody else in here or with me. Promise me – no one else."

_I'm not equipped to help you here properly Starsk. This is all frightening stuff for me too - I don't know how to support you through this…what if I'm doing or saying the wrong things? _

But he didn't say this to him. None of it. Intellectually, Hutch knew it was too raw and too fresh yet for his partner to undergo psychological intervention and in the meantime he knew that _he_ was the best person, the only person that should be with his partner at this point of the aftermath. It had always been this way with them…and irrespective of the nature of the trauma, this was still the best way for them.

But this was by far the most difficult aftermath he had ever found himself in with his partner following a trauma. This was no gunshot wound, no knife wound, no run of the mill physical beating, or even God help him the aftermath of forced drug abuse…..this was a trauma that had no known markers. It had blown a hole through his partner's soul, through his mind and his spirit. And as it went with them, if Starsky was hurting than so too was he.

Even for it had ripped asunder his own sense of what he could assimilate about mankind. Witnessing what had been done to his partner had lowered the bar for him on humans as a race. He recalled how utterly shell-shocked he had felt straight after the incident when his mind was not able to file and make sense of the Ryan's barbarism. If what he had done to Starsky had shocked him to the core, then he could only imagine how Starsky was going to feel about it when the memory broke through. It was apparent from Starsky's rising distress that his mind's denial gates were starting to buckle under the pressure.

Last night's defensive curled up body posture, his darting furtive glances about the room or startled jumps at noises from outside the room and his constant requests for assurances that there would be no more interviews, no unexpected drop ins to the room…were all a clear manifestation of the brittleness of Starsky's mood.

Starsky's reprieve from the nightmare of what Ryan had done was soon to be over.

Putting aside the coffee, Hutch moved up closer to the side of the bed and looked down at his partner. It was becoming too hard to continue to watch him toss about the bed, mangling his sheets about his limbs and probably himself by pushing at his wound. The last thing he wanted to do was to bring him into awareness and the cruel morning light that first days after trauma always brought a victim. So much easier to stay where reality was at kept at bay. But Starsky's sweating, lined face suggested that wherever he was now in his dreams was not safe for him.

Returning from the bathroom with a cool wet washer and another dry towel he approached him carefully with the intent to wake him. At least he could be here beside him to help him make that first ungodly transition from sleep to wakefulness.

Dabbing the damp cloth across his forehead he started to gently bring him to the surface and out of the clutches of the bad dream.

"Hey? Hey? Starsk ….you're here with me, there's no one else in this room. Just us. Safe for you to wake up now and look at me. Can you hear me?"

His hot face concerned him and he moved the cloth down to gently press it onto the wet throat and neck that was vivid with the dark bruises…finger marks of Ryan.

In his mind's eye Hutch had Ryan pressed hard to the floor with his own big hands squeezing…..squeezing….cutting off his air supply. He wouldn't stop, he couldn't stop once he started. Ryan would die beneath his hands….die…he would die.

"Hutch?"

"Yeah…I'm here. I've been waiting for you to wake up you big sleepy head. How're you doing? Any pain?"

"Hospital? Still here?"

"Yes…we're still here. How's your pain? Do you want me to call for an injection or some pills? Hey you're sweating here. Let me cool you down. You're so hot Starsky. We need to get your temperature checked out. Maybe you have a fever…"

"Dream…dream…Hutch…"

He was reaching out again trying to find Hutch's hand, locating it he pulled hard on it and pressed into his chest as he rolled onto his side, curling again into his favored fetal position from the previous day.

"I know buddy. I could see you were dreaming. But its over now and you're out of it. Not real – just a dream. I'm here and there is no dream anymore."

"No – the dream …..s' not over really…never be over …will it? Not a dream….was it real Hutch? What I dreamed? It was –"

"No Starsky, it is over. It was just a dream. It is not happening anymore. It's in the past. You're safe now. The dream can't hurt you."

_But of course it could. _

_Of course it would._

_And Starsky's right._

The dream would never be over.

Suddenly an urgency seemed to overtake Starsky and he frantically attempted to pull himself upright. At least Hutch could see that he was moving a lot more freely this morning.

"He's still here isn't he? Ryan's still here?"

Hutch could only nod.

"Get me out of here please. No more – I have to leave this morning. I'm goin' home Hutch – ya' gonna take me, cos if ya' don't I'm gonna go anyway…"

And then a downcast movement of his eyes showed his immediate regret of the open threat.

"Need you to take me home. Just sign me out and let's go. This morning. We've done it before – you know we have. Plenty of times."

"Starsky those were times when you weren't hurt so seriously, so deeply. I'm worried I can't take care of you how I need to. I'm scared that I don't how to help you."

And then the truth.

"I'm as scared as you Starsk. As scared as you that I can't make it all better for you…..not this time. I can't stand seeing you like this, and I know there's more pain and hurt deeper inside you. What if I can't cope? What if you just fall apart and there's nothing I can do? This is bigger than we've ever dealt with Starsky. I don't want to make the wrong decision here."

"No wrong decisions when we just stick together. And when I fall apart I want to be away from here – from him – and when I fall apart, all I need is here looking at me with big sad eyes. Just you Hutch – you don't have to make it better. Ya' just have to be you and ya just have to be beside me. From there we'll work it out. "

A few moments later when the door opened lightly after the faintest of knocks the Doctor and his nurse moved quietly into the room.

Whether their unobtrusive entrance was perceived or not, the two men remained in their tight embrace and made no effort to break apart.

The nurse was thinking to herself what a beautiful and rare sight it was to see two special friends offering each other comfort and affection.

The Doctor was thinking that it would surely be the first time he had ever witnessed such an open display of caring emotion between two heterosexual males.

For the two clutching on to each other like their lives depended on it…..it was nothing out of the ordinary.

When the Nurse disturbed them as she retrieved the metal backed chart from the foot of the bed, Hutch looked up and acknowledged their presence.

With a final look from Starsky he gave a small nod and slowly unwrapped his arms from his shoulders.

Turning to the Doctor he spoke in a tone that would brook no argument or debate.

"I'll be taking my partner home this morning. It's what he wants and I believe it's in his best interests."

oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooO OOooo


	22. Chapter 22

**Then Neither Can He**

**Chapter 22**

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"Well, I don't think that sat too well with him. You know partner, I wonder how long it'll be before we have such a bad track record with medical staff in the Southern Californian region, that we'll be refused entry to most hospitals. They'll have our photos up in Admissions with a warning…'Do not treat or admit these two men.' "

Hutch tried for a small degree of levity. But there was little in the way of evidence that his partner had found his quip had in any way lightened the mood.

Starsky simply shrugged and pulled restlessly at the hospital wristband as though he was already preparing to shed his identity as patient.

"Should be happy that we're doin' our bit to keep the hospital length of stays down. Someone else can have my bed – I don't want it anymore. Anyway he can't really argue. I'm ok to go home. Now will ya' help me get into that shower before the damn nurse comes and drags me in herself."

Although his statement about his readiness to leave medical care was technically not true, Hutch didn't comment. The very fact that Starsky was in no shape to shower by himself, was point in fact.

He had long ago learned when to go into battle and when not to in this relationship. Right now all that mattered is that the doctor had not vetoed the early discharge outright. He had accepted the decision by his patient and when Hutch said that they would be leaving that morning, he had been quietly disapproving but had accepted the situation as a given.

With the usual parting warnings of all that could go wrong with unscheduled and premature discharges, he left the room with the promise that one of the nurses would be in to provide medication, dressings etc. to take home with them.

Fifteen minutes later as Hutch was supporting a very shaky Starsky as he finished to help dress him in the clothes that had been brought back from the beach house, the blond was starting to have serious reservations about colluding with this premature discharge from the hospital.

Both of them panting with exertion, both sweating from the struggle to get clothes back on to Starsky's tensely held body and both acutely aware that even the simple task of showering and drying could drain an already weakened and injured body to the point of near collapse….Hutch quietly stated the obvious.

"Starsk – you're far from well. Look at you, you can barely stand up. And I know damn well you're still in a lot of pain. This decision to leave might not be wise. "

"Doesn't ….matter…..ahhhh….goin' home. No matter what…today. Hutch, look, I can rest up at home. I'll stay in bed. No arguments, …but just get me outta here."

"God Starsky…you're one stubborn….ok. But you promise me that you'll do what I say once we leave here. You'll be resting up and that's it. No getting up and about. No arguments. "

"Ok, ok. Just as long as I can get away from …..here."

He'd lifted his head unconsciously when he'd spoken and his eyes had veered nervously toward the door. Hutch felt his gut clench and a pang of sympathy lanced through him for what he knew his partner was feeling.

The sense, the presence of the enemy.

It wasn't possible, he knew that intellectually. Hospitals always carried their own pervasive and characteristic smell of heavy antiseptic. It filled the hallways and the rooms, and hit you as you first entered the place. But still…it was there, for him, and he wondered now too, if was the same for Starsky?

The concept that the stinking, evil odor of Ryan was wafting from his room only meters away.

Hutch reached up , lightly squeezing the neck he had been supporting and tugged affectionately on the damp curls, understanding in his light blue eyes.

"You're right. We both need to get away from here. Once I get you home you'll feel a lot better."

But he wasn't sure of that. Not at all.

Ryan might be just down the hall and his proximity was unnerving. But would simply putting physical distance between him and Starsky be anywhere enough to help the healing process begin for his partner?

Ryan's tentacles were far reaching and Hutch wondered how far he would need to take Starsky to really shake off the coil of his filthy hold on him.

Sadly he knew that psychological recovery worked more effectively when it was combined with the dimension of time, not distance.

But it didn't matter. For right now he would do anything to take that look off his partner's face, even if for a brief while. Even if it meant trying to believe that putting him in a car and driving him south would make it better.

oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooO OOoooOOOooo

"There you go Mr. Starsky. Everything you should need for the next few days. The pain medication with the directions, the antibiotics, fresh dressings and some instructions on wound care. Our number is there too in case you need to call up for some advice or arrange for readmission."

"Thanks."

The dark haired man placed the bundle in his overnight bag with nothing more than that one bland word.

It was hardly an effusive responsive to such a chirpy sing-song offering, but then Hutch knew that it was all that his partner was capable of at this moment.

"Now even if it's after hours, you can call through to the front desk and we can arrange to bypass emergency and get you back in."

"Won't be comin' back in."

Hutch thought the poor girl deserved something more than what she was going to get from Starsky and he intercepted.

"That's really helpful, but if for some reason he needs to be re-admitted I can arrange for it back down in the city. Starsky has in-patient records down there. So are we all right to leave now? "

"Yes I suppose so. Unless you have any other questions you'd like me to answer."

He could feel the other man's impatience and nerves stretching taut and thought that if he didn't get Starsky out of this room now he just might say something they'd both regret to the bubbly nurse.

"No I think we've got it covered."

She had given Starsky another dose of painkillers so that the journey back in the car would be more bearable. Already Hutch could see that the drugs were starting to have an effect – the deep blue eyes were fixed in a stare at the door.

He wanted out of that door and now.

"Ok then Mr. Starsky! Off we go. Let's just get you into this chair and I'll wheel you down to the exit."

"That won't be necessary. Really, I'll take it from here."

"Oh…"

Her pert face clouded and her lips pouted a little as though she had just been denied a treat. Hutch was feeling more and more like a heel and as he helped Starsky into the wheelchair and gathered up the overnight bag, he was turning back to her. He was about to say something. About to give her back a little in return for her efforts to bring some cheeriness into the gloom of this room, when she gave a sudden small exclamation.

"Oooohhhh….I nearly forgot! That would've been a shame because I promised him. The lovely man, that other Detective, your friend Mr. Starsky… Mr. Lancaster? Well he wanted to know when you were going home and when I told him you were leaving this morning…well he said to me to make sure that I told you how much he was thinking of you. "

He had been looking down and totally disinterested in anything the nurse had to say, but suddenly his head shot up and the slightly drugged eyes widened. Starsky jerked back as though the Nurse's words themselves had slapped him in the face, and his sharp intake of breath was audible.

"He obviously thinks so much of you Mr. Starsky…always talking about you and asking after you. Such a caring man. You're lucky you have all of these lovely friends who worry about you."

She looked at Hutch with obvious appreciation that took in more than just his attributes as a good friend.

All thoughts of saying something kind to her rushed out of Hutch's head as he snapped at her viciously.

"You told Lancaster that Starsky was going home today?"

"Ahhh …well yes, he did ask and….."

The handsome blond suddenly took on a threatening stance and she stepped back a couple of paces at the thunderous expression on his face.

"Why you stupid….why would you discuss other patients? Don't you have any sense of confidentiality? "

"But what is the harm? You're all cops – all such good friends. Mr. Lancaster says that he and Mr. Starsky are so close. I'm sorry….I….."

"Look lady, get it straight. Lancaster is not a friend to either of us and you are stupid and irresponsible to discuss one patient with another. Now I want you to tell me that you are not going to say another word to him about my partner – not one more word. If he asks anything you give the response you should have given in the first place – that you are not permitted to discuss other patients."

His stern eyes had her backing toward the door.

"Are you clear on that?"

"Yes – yes, I understand. I'm so sorry. I guess I just didn't think."

"Than maybe next time you'd better think. "

Throwing the brake on the wheelchair he spun it around.

"C'mon buddy, let's get you home. "

oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOooo

With his sly sinuous fashion Ryan had somehow slipped into the car with them.

He had planned it that way.

He had been brought into Starsky's room via the nurse and delivered like some sick bad joke, a last good bye that lingered and stunk . He walked beside them as they made their way from the hospital to the main exit and then climbed into the car uninvited, taking a place in the back seat.

Worse than that he would not take his leave as Hutch revved the engine and cursed heavily at him under his breath.

_You fucking piece of shit. You did that on purpose! You knew that it would get to Starsky and you did it for maximum effect before he left the hospital. Fucking bastard get the hell of our faces!_

Hutch turned once more with a worried look to see how anxious his partner still looked since the nurse had dropped the message from their nemesis.

The spectre of Ryan continued to hover over the two men in the front for at least the first half of the drive. That is how it felt to both of them, though neither of them articulated it. Even when not physically present it seemed that the Ryan's badness was still able to infiltrate their space.

The vestiges of his manipulative ploy to once again get under his skin was still in the air and it was clear that Starsky did not want to talk about it or to have Hutch discuss it either.

Not far along in the journey Starsky had fallen into a light sleep and he had remained in it for most of the journey back from Ventura Hospital. No doubt this state was partly induced from the pre-discharge dose of pain relief but also Hutch sensed he simply needed to close himself off from the atmosphere in the car that was heavy with Ryan.

"_Put him out of your mind buddy. He just did that to piss you off and to try to rattle you some more before you left. Don't let it get to you. Let it go."_

He would have said these words, they would have so easily rolled from Hutch's tongue and been another attempt to deny the impact that this ruthless man had on his partner. But what was the use of the words anyway? How could Starsky simply put Ryan out of his mind? How would he even begin to finish with something that he hadn't even begun with? To deal with what Ryan had done to him not just the night at the beach, but ever since he and Starsky had gone undercover together.

It was easier for both of them to stay silent and instead to concentrate on the practical side of getting Starsky home and settled.

He was taking Starsky to his own place – he had already decided that. There would be no debate on that. For some reason it just felt like a safer option. To have him there with him rather than at Starsky's own home. When he had to leave him to pick up supplies or whatever, at least he would not be leaving Starsky at his own place – which had already been targeted by Ryan.

It felt good to be able to wake his partner gently from his sleep with the news that they were back home, away from Ryan and from the hospital and all that it signified.

He was kneeling down at the open passenger door and was laying light fingers on the sleeping face, bringing his friend carefully to the surface of awareness so as not to startle him.

"Hey sleepy head. You want to wake up now? We're home Starsky. Out of the hospital like you wanted. Back in Bay City."

"Huh? Oh….right. Your place?"

"My place. I want it like this partner. Just go with me on this one. I'll feel better and I think you will too. I'll get over to your apartment somehow or get Huggy to go and bring you back some clothes and things. But for now let's just get inside and get you settled. Are you right to stand? Let me take your weight."

Still quite sleepy Hutch supported him into the small home and helped him to get comfortable on the couch.

"Ok we made it to base one. Now what do you want to do. Sleep? Eat, have another shower or a bath?"

"Don't know. Just…stay here….sit here….I – I don't know what to do Hutch. I don't know what to do."

There was a look of such deep despair on his face as he looked up at his partner . It was almost too much for Hutch to bear. He was so tired of watching his friend be and feel like this. At that moment he wanted so badly to reach over and pull it out of him – to find a way to put his hands deep down into Starsky's soul and rip hard, ripping out all traces of pain and anguish leaving him clean and whole again.

His hands found their usual place around his shoulders.

"Hey…hey….you don't have to _know_ what to do. There is nothing you need to do right now. Just stay still in yourself and rest. We can work it out bit by bit."

"But I don't even know what the fuck I'm meant to be working out Hutch. Which way is forward? My whole life feels broken up and now by body feels that way too. I'm scared that I won't be able to get my mind to go back together with my body and be me again. I feel…..all smashed up…and even if I figure out how to put the bits back together, I don't think it'll be me ever again."

"i remember how that felt Starsky. So very similar to how I felt with the heroin. It's all part of getting back from a frightening place, after you've been put through a traumatic event. Yeah…that's a good way to describe how it feels. Broken up and separated from myself inside and from everyone else outside. It was terrifying."

He studied the face near him now.

"Are you feeling scared too Starsk? Are you experiencing fear and anxiety as well as just strange?"

"That's the damn trouble Hutch. I've got this churning inside like I should be feeling scared, frightened and...that if I could somehow feel this fear then I would also start to feel like my mind and my body were working together again. But I can't find that fear – its there sorta, but hard to understand, hard to pinpoint what I'm scared of. All I know is that I feel safe with you, but no one else. All I know is that being near that asshole in the hospital gave me the creeps and at least now being here sorta feels better. Still not right, but better."

"Starsky being able to start to talk like this is great. Really great. It'll help – slowly, it will get better if you can keep trying to talk about what you've got going on inside. I'm no counselor and I know eventually you will have to see someone. Shit so will I for that matter. But – at least now you're back here and feel a bit safer you might start to try to let some of it out. Just don't push yourself Starsk – take it slowly. I'll be with you."

He didn't want to say his name, didn't want to taint the small progress that he felt Starsky had just made with his verbalization of his inner thoughts, but at the same time he felt he needed to kick hard at a subject they were both veering around carefully.

"You will get Ryan out of your mind as well as your life Starsky. You will – it's a lot like the heroin was for me – a poison that takes time to leave your system. I'll be here until the last bit of him is gone from you, however long it takes – just like you were there for me with the heroin."

Starsky smiled a little and clenched the hand on his shoulder.

"Hey I'm countin' on ya' bein' here all the way, so once again we're stuck with each other."

"Yeah – and if you're stuck here that means you get to eat what I serve you up and right now I'm already planning on getting some nutritional food into your system. Now those clothes you're wearing need changing and God same here with mine. So let me get cleaned up and then we'll deal with you. Here – I'll put on the TV for you for some company. Don't answer the door and don't answer the phone Ok?"

Whatever he was expecting from him in response it was not what he got.

"Can you ….. ah…..have you made sure the front door is locked Hutch. Before you go into the shower?"

This one small sentence spoke volumes to Hutch.

Starsky was getting in touch with that fear. It was still deep inside him and still not able to be expressed, but it was there and it was making itself felt.

He chose to make little of it. It might be progress of sorts for it at least showed that Starsky was beginning to let himself face the horror of what he had been through. Still it pained Hutch to realize just how much yet lay ahead for this whole healing process and just how hard it was going to be for him watching his closest friend suffer through the grueling steps before along the path to recovery.

Locking a door was easy, but unlocking the heavy door Starsky's mind had slammed shut on trauma was going to be so very very hard.

"Sure buddy. I'll do it now so you can see me check it ok?"

oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooO OOoooOOOooo

The bathroom door was open in case Starsky needed him for any reason. He had drawn him a hot bath and left him there to soak hoping that the warm salty water would soothe those parts of him that he knew were still so tender and inflamed. The hospital had provided him with basic instructions and some medicinal salts along with the medications and dressings for his wound, which he had taken down so that he could bathe properly.

With his own body cleaned, fresh clothes and the damp wrist bandages removed he felt a hell of a lot better himself. Of course he didn't underestimate the therapeutic power of simply being back home in his own private sanctuary. There was also the relief of having Starsky back here with him where he could take care of him and keep guard over him. His Magnum was still not with him having been taken by the Ventura police at the time of the incident, but he would ensure that he had it back in his possession just as soon as he could arrange it.

He was in the process of trying to plan out a simple meal that he could prepare for them both in the early evening when the phone rang.

Grabbing it up quickly he knew that even the first couple of insistent shrills would have jarred into Starsky. Since those harassing calls from Ryan, he knew that the jangle of the phone would be stressful to him.

It was Dobey.

Five minutes later he put down the phone.

Dobey was understanding and solicitous but in the end it was out of his hands and it either came down to Internal Affairs coming around to Hutch's place in the next hour for a visit or Hutch going down to HQ by himself and leaving Starsky. Starsky would have to be taken into see the next day anyway.

IA wanted to talk and there was no more holding them back.

He opted for them to come here.

He looked toward the bathroom.

Before they arrived he needed to let Starsky know about the content of Ryan's statement. He didn't want him finding out about it in some bureaucratic interview with two white collared officials. No one but him was going to let his partner know that Ryan had claimed that he and Starsky were lovers.

oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooO OOooo

"There. One dry dressing reapplied and one nice piece of handiwork by Doc Hutchinson. By tomorrow I think we should be able to leave the dressing off. It's looking lovely and clean."

"Only you Hutch would use the word 'lovely' when talkin' 'bout a row of sutures and puckered flesh. But yeah – you're work is a hell of a lot neater than those nurses can ever do, and I reckon your gentler than them too. Some of them are just plain mean."

"Well buddy, its not like we both don't get a fair amount of practice is it? I wonder how many dressings, band aids, and bandages we've had to fix up on each other over the years?"

"More than we should've. My body is startin' to look like a stuntman's."

Hutch smiled fondly at him as he readjusted Starsky's loose t-shirt, the job now done.

"Ok the suits will be here soon and I need to go through a few things with you that I didn't wanted to drop on you at the hospital before we took off this morning. Are you up for it? It can't wait any longer now the IA are coming to visit. It'll be on their agenda and well….."

He was sitting on the side of his bed where he had gotten Starsky to lie flat so that he could attend to the dressing after his bath. He had dropped the bad news about the imminent arrival of the IA but Starsky seemed nonchalant about the prospect and had said little, simply shrugged it off. Like most cops he understood that it was an inevitable process that needed to unfold whenever cops were being investigated by cops. Sooner or later the IA would always have their nose in the case and sooner or later they would usually have every one else's noses out of place. But suffering them was something that could only be put off for so long.

"Hutch? Help me sit up a little bit here will ya? I feel stupid lying down looking up at you like this, if we're gonna talk about somethin' that's got that look on your face. "

Responding to his request Hutch pulled him higher up the bed and rearranged the bank of pillows so that he was upright but still resting on the bed.

"How are you for pain relief? Want me to get some for you?"

"No. Not with the guys coming. Need to have my wits about me – later – when they've gone. I can hang on. Hutch? You look upset? What haven't ya told me? Out with it – no more hedgin'".

"I'm not hedging and I'm not hiding anything. I just haven't found the right moment to tell you ….I….well…it's the fucking report. Ryan's statement to the Ventura cops. Dobey showed it to me. IA will have it when they come and will no doubt talk about what he claimed in his statement. Ah shit…Starsky….he's a complete madman….if I could only have him for ten minutes…."

"So are you tryin' to tell me that he gave the cops some bullshit story from his own fucked up head about him and me."

"Christ partner, you sure have a way of cutting through the shit. But yes. It stinks. It is fucking insane. _He's_ fucking insane. He says it was all a planned event…you and he meeting at the beach house, for some sort of ….oh I don't know how to say it….some sort of …..Oh Jesus..."

It was all too hard for him. All too hard and he felt like he was delivering some sort of judgment on his best friend with the nature of the statement being revealed. It was agony trying to articulate what was going to hurt Starsky so much more than he had already been hurt and also make him feel dirtier more sullied than he already felt because Ryan had pulled him into his own sexual delusions.

"Hutch. Its nothin' I didn't expect him to say. I knew that he thinks like this – really thinks like this. Like he believes I want him or somethin'. It's been hard for me to tell you this before – I've tried to – but it's hard. This is how he has been since the beginning with me. Somehow, someway in his own screwed up mind he thinks we are ….some sorta' couple. I don't even think anymore that he knows the truth – or what is real and what isn't. Maybe sometimes he does, but then – its like he is in his own head and I'm part of it...whatever he in his mind about us. "

"But it fucking stinks Starsky. It stinks that he has that shit put down in his statement – that he – that you and he…."

"So he has his own sick version. I can't do nothin' about it but tell the IA that it never went down like that. You and Riley were there too, so there's gotta be some weight thrown up against that crap. I just damn well hope its enough weight to take that asshole's badge."

"You don't want anything more Starsky? You don't want to take him to the courts? For what he did to you? It'll be painful but if you want to do it ….You'll need to think about it soon. More than his badge. It would be more than his badge you could take him for."

"Sure ….sure…could have a shot at it. But you and I both know buddy that it won't just be him who'll be payin' the price for what he did to me. I don't know if I'd have it in me to go the time it'd take to try to pin him. And then, I know I wouldn't have it in me, if I found out that at the end of it all, I got nothin' to show for it ...if some smart mouthed expensive lawyer just let him walk. My whole life would be fucked to pieces because the legal process raped me worse than Ryan ever did. "

"You've obviously thought about all of this."

"Not completely—but some…since being back here and feeling a bit straighter in my head, realizin' what I got in life just here with my career - if I can get my badge back, my everyday life which ain't none too bad and…..with you… our friendship and what you mean to …..well …"

He choked and stumbled a little on these words and Hutch steadied him with his eyes. He didn't reach out to him because he knew to do so might break them both down and now was not the time to allow that to happen.

Not now. Not yet.

"Anyway. Don't want to lose all of that or any of that in fact, by puttin' myself on the line with a long drawn out legal case. Nothin' , nothin'…not even gettin' Ryan is worth losin' all of that. He's already pulled us apart - made me think that your going to Dobey was all wrong, made me not believe you were only doing it all for me...If I hadn't gone off like that to that place up on the beach...What I've decided Hutch is that he's had enough already. Not gonna give him anymore of me or us. Do ya' understand? "

With a deep intact of breath he finished and looked somehow as though he had just moved forward a good few paces within himself.

"I hear you buddy. If that is what you have decided – then I'm with you. I wanted to take him so badly, take all of him - put him behind bars not just take his badge. And if you wanted that too, I'd be standing beside you all the way. But that's not my decision Starsky, it's yours and if you've chosen not to...then that's ok too."

"I want him off the streets Hutch. He's too mad to be a cop and he'll fuck up a lot more people than me if he stays...probably already has even before I was in the picture. But mainly I want his badge because that is somethin' that matters to him and it'll hurt for him to lose it."

"Alright then. Let's give the IA enough to go on to strip him of his career. That'll have to be enough – for both of us."

Starsky nodded – emotional and wrung out by the revelations he had just made to himself and his partner. He understood that he had come to some sort of crossroads with what had happened to him. With the decision firmer now not to proceed in any legal way, he was moving beyond the intersection having chosen which way he was going to proceed.

He was turning.

Veering off the road that would take him straight through and down the long highway that would end in legal battle. For now it was the side road for him. Shorter, less bumpy, where the scenery was more familiar and he could rest up earlier than if he took that long stretch of road.

But life was convoluted and did not always run along well worn pathways or follow the same roadmap to get to a certain endpoint.

There were many different routes to take to arrive at a planned destination. Some just took longer than others and were largely unchartered. But the end result was all that mattered.

The final stop.

And so Starsky quickly lowered his eyes. He couldn't risk Hutch seeing what he knew would be so clearly evident in their dark blue depths. He couldn't let Hutch see it because Hutch would try to protect him from his own plans.

A plan, conviction.

Conviction and hatred.

Hatred and revenge.

Hutch was right. He wanted IA to strip Ryan of his badge.

But he was also wrong.

It would never, _never_ be enough for him.

S&H S&H S&H S&H S&H S&H


	23. Chapter 23

**Then Neither Can He**

**Chapter 23**

* * *

The first thought that struck him when he opened the door to them was that he should be grateful for small mercies.

On top of everything else Hutch didn't think he could either stomach or hold himself in check if that small mercy had not been granted.

Neither of the two men whom he lead into his small living room, taking the seats that he proffered them, was Simonetti.

Dobey's hand perhaps? Either way he was relieved. Either by pure luck or design the two Internal Affairs men, Michaels and Barker were both new faces to him.

Catching his partner's eye where he had taken his own seat on the couch it was obvious that Starsky shared the feeling of that one small good piece of news.

Simonetti was not someone either of them would miss. If anything Starsky's dislike for the smug Simonetti was even greater than his own.

Hutch would be lying if he denied that having two members of the Departments Internal Affairs in the confines of his small home was not unnerving. The formal introductions were cursory and stilted as the men introduced themselves and took in the pale and weak appearance of Hutchinson's dark haired partner. It was immediately evident that the blond Detective was taking the role of representative for the two of them. After directing the two men to their seats he quickly took up a position next to the other Detective on the couch, the physical proximity of the two of them demonstrating their united front and their easy comfort with each other.

"Detectives – we would have preferred to do these interviews singularly. The nature of this investigation would dictate that it is prudent for us to discuss this case with you each in private."

"Prudency hardly has a place anywhere in this "case" as you refer to it….Michaels. There is nothing that each of us is not already privy to. " Hutch sent back to the older of the two men.

"Nonetheless you've been a cop long enough to know how we operate – how the system works. We came here this afternoon but it would be our expectation that Detective Starsky were not present. We can do his interview later tomorrow when he is more fully recovered."

"What'da ya want me to do boys? Take a stroll in the garden? In case ya haven't noticed this ain't exactly a multi-roomed residence Hutch has here and there ain't no where else I can be without hearing ya'. Besides, I've got sorta' comfy here in my usual spot of this couch."

Hutch couldn't hold back a short snort at the resurgence of Starsky's usual smart mouth repartee – it had been a long time since he'd seen or heard it. Sadly he guessed that even this small front demanded a lot from his worn down partner.

"Oh come on you guys. We all know the score here. I can't count how many interviews IA have done with us in the same room – it happens – and it'll just have to be that way now. Starsky is far from well. He's damn well not going outside and I'm not leaving him unattended. That's the whole reason you two are here in the first place and why I refused to come down to your office. Now let's just cut to the chase here and save ourselves all this formality. You've got all the statements from the Ventura PD? Starsky and I are aware of Ryan Lancaster's statement. Can you tell us where all this is likely to end up?"

For a few moments the two suited men looked at each other. The younger one who had introduced himself as Barker, held some files in his hand, tapped them lightly and then tossed them down on to Hutch's coffee table.

At Hutch's direct question he raised his own eyes in speculation at his older partner.

"What do you want to do here? Go ahead with this? " he queried, eyeing the older officer.

"Ok then, like you've said Hutchinson, we have all the statements at hand – and the previous ones that were taken when Internal Affairs came on after the Kalzo case. Is there anything else you want to add to anything that you have both provided here?"

"I don't think so….not really from my end. I've got a lot of questions, but first I want to hear what you guys have got to tell us. Starsk did you want to add anything, change anything?"

Hutch turned to him.

Starsky rubbed hard at his forehead and looked down at the files. He said nothing and Hutch watched him with concern.

Barker prompted.

"You have stated that you have no clear recollection of the alleged rape of yourself by Detective Ryan Lancaster on the night of the incident only days ago. Isn't it likely Detective that your memory will clear once you recover from the immediate trauma of the attack. Do you have anything new of consequence that you can tell us about now? Information that will support the allegations and evidence presented against Lancaster?"

"I can tell you that it's all in my head tryin' to push itself out. I can tell ya' that but clear memory – no."

"So when say in one week, two – a month when your memory does return or you are clearer in your recollections of the attack and Lancaster's role in your presenting injuries – will you then wish to change your statement? That is considering your window of opportunity for time frames here. "

The question of course was so simplistic, so essential and pivotal to the whole situation. But it was far from easy for Starsky to answer and Hutch sat with his breath held and his eyes on his partner's face, trying to fathom his partner's thoughts and to be alongside him in his uncertainty.

"Well lets put it another way." Michaels angled for an opening.

"Are you going to press charges and pursue this in a legal setting? "

"No" Starsky uttered the singular emphatic word. He watched Hutch for a sign of a reaction.

"You're certain of that? We noted that you opted for no clinical photos following the attack?"

"I …..look I'd rather not go into this too much. I'm not taking Ryan on legally. I've weighed it up – that's my decision, my choice. " He again looked at Hutch now as he spoke and unconsciously his partner moved his hand to lay it supportively on Starsky's forearm. Starsky brought his right hand across to cover Hutch's, a totally private moment passing between them despite the two men sitting opposite.

The movement and the depth of the interchange was not lost on Barker who raised his eyebrow eloquently at Michaels. Michaels eyes darted away quickly as though he felt uneasy with the conspired communication from his partner and wary that he might be caught out by the two Detectives.

Starsky looked up again at the two men.

"But I need you guys to give me some assurance that I can start to go forward from here. Tell me where Ryan stands with you, the Department - with his career? You've got my medical report, Hutch's statement, Officer Riley's statement – surely with all of that – shit – surely…."

"We are not at liberty….."

"Not at liberty to what? You think you two don't have liberty? Where's _my_ damn liberty? I nearly lost my life on an undercover case to that motherfucker and I still don't know why which makes it even worse. Not knowing why your partner would want to stick a knife in your guts, not knowing whether it was part of the whole undercover gig or not. You know what that does to a cop? When ya' can't know what to expect from ya' partner? Or why he did what he did to ya' and then tries to make out its all part of the big plan? It messed with my head that's what it did. So it messed me up so bad that I lost my badge and now …now he's shit...what he did to me at that Beach House. He's taken this huge chunk of me so that I don't even fuckin' know who I am anymore...I feel like I've got nothin' left to take. I just want this over – just want my badge back – just want him out of my life. I don't have the energy or the courage to do that with lawyers. Just sorta' hoped I could rely on my own Department to see this bastard for what he is…Hutch told me that he got to read Ryan's statement – that he wrote total shit …have you taken the time to realize that everything he has reported is all in his imagination?"

"Yes we are well aware of Detective Ryan's attitudes and …beliefs regarding you and him."

"And? Have you challenged him on it?" Hutch asked now. He didn't like the hesitation in Michael's voice as he made the comment.

"Ok... Detective Hutchinson , as you chose the word 'challenge'….may I ask you…"

Barker was looking at Hutch's hand clasped tightly in his partner's and was a little shocked when he looked up to find Hutch's glacial eyes on him – watching him watching him and Starsky. Pointedly he left his hand where it was.

"Ask me what Michaels?"

"To describe the nature of your relationship with Detective Starsky?"

"The nature…..?...Oh of course….it had to come to this….."

Hutch shook his head slowly and looked down at their joined hands and up again to meet two sets of eyes with defiance flashing in his. His grip on Starsky intensified because now he could feel the tension spreading from the hand covering his and back up the whole of Starsky's forearm.

_Don't Starsky. Don't let this shit get to you. Don't let them provoke you._

"So Michaels, what exactly do you want to know about Starsky's and my relationship? We're partners. Friends. Best of friends. Like brothers, closer than brothers. I can put all sorts of superlatives into describing our relationship. But that is not what you're asking me here is it?"

"Well that is not exactly answering my question now is it Hutchinson?"

" Sure I answered it. Clearly But it's your question that is murky here, not my answer."

Barker made a frustrated sound and pushed the files on the table closer as if it was the content of the files themselves that were cross-examining the blond Detective.

"Forget the mind games Hutchinson. Talk to us straight. Do you want him to spell it out for you? Michaels and I saw the report from Lancaster. Now answer the question."

Starsky was becoming increasingly tense and despite Hutch's efforts to restrain him he felt his hand disengaged as his friend sat forward suddenly - his response far more dramatic than Hutch's quiet anger.

_Don't do it Starsky. Don't lose it with these guys._

But it was a wasted silent thought...Starsky was moving fast toward his "losing it" behaviour.

"You bastards. You come in here to Hutch's home after reading the filth from that pervert, the shit that fills his head – his sick belief system – and you say that to my partner! You dare to debase our friendship, our closeness because of a set of delusions in another man's sick head? You sit there and judge us , what we have in our friendship. You judge our caring of each other and give it some dirty label. Don't you dare make our relationship out to be anything, _anything_ like Ryan treated me."

"We gave nothing a dirty label Starsky – we simply asked Hutchinson to define the sort of relationship the two of you share."

"And Hutch told you. We're best friends and partners. Have been for years, always will be."

"So you do not share an intimate relationship?"

Hutch wanted to tell the IA men to shut the fuck up. They didn't know Starsky, they didn't know how they were pushing him, what they were doing to him. But he also knew that this step had to be negotiated. Ryan had laid it down...now their relationship, his and Starsky's was up for scrutiny.

But his partner was seeing red and in his debilitated condition Hutch knew it could only lead to no good.

"Oh I get it! Jesus how stupid of me… Can't you see what they're askin' here Hutch? What they want to say but are too freakin' shit scared to say in black and white is... do we fuck each other? That's what ya' want to know really isn't it? Ya' think because one sicko wants to fuck me up the ass and I couldn't stop him, then my own partner must be doing the same thing to me? Hutch must be gettin' a piece of the action too. And what? Let's see...we've been together how many years, Hutch and me? We've been doing this...havin' this secret sexual affair under ya' noses for years. Of course! Lucky for ya' both that Ryan Lancaster let IA in on it. Christ help the IA, otherwise ya' would have stayed ignorant of it for a lot more years... What bad fuckin' luck that I got it up the ass from Ryan and so you found out about me and Hutch..."

" Stop with the heavy sarcasm Detective...we don't need it. It's a valid question to ask of the two of you given the content of the statements."

Barker was becoming agitated and uncomfortable with Starsky's combative stance.

"Why is it valid? Tell me. Help me understand this. Valid? I get raped by one man so automatically that must mean I must be allowing other men do it to me all the time? That I openly consent to it? Shit...that I want it...ask for it. That I'm gay? No...not just gay..but I like it rough and kinky and brutal. Maybe Hutch didn't give it to me brutally enough...maybe I needed somethin' rougher, meaner...like Ryan. And Ryan's not enough so I go offerin' myself out to others... "

"Not other men in general – just your partner – Hutchinson. What is the nature of your relationship apart from professional? "

"You know Barker – there's two problems with that take on things. One, you are assumin' that because someone gets violently sexually attacked that they must be the sorta person who is open to that sort of thing. Second thing wrong with what ya' just said is that you have degraded my partner and me by bringing what we have in our partnership down to a level that Ryan has tried to convince you we have. And, even say we did have that….that we were what he thinks we are….are you then sayin' that what he did to me is ok? That if Hutch was fuckin' me anyway, then well shit….what does it matter if Ryan did it to me too. Is that what you're sayin' Barker?"

"That is not what either of us are saying Starsky." Michael's cut in quickly and then gave a Barker a look as though to warn him to pull back from the line of questioning. It was more than apparent that Hutchinson was becoming very concerned by his partner's level of emotion and signs that he was beginning to dismantle in front of them.

"Hey Starsk….." But Starsky shook his head at Hutch's attempt to calm him.

"No Hutch…let me finish this...I want him to tell me …. Fuckin' tell me what you are sayin'! Fuckin' make it clear for me because that is what I'm hearin' from you. Can't ya' listen to ya' selves? This is the exact reason….the very reason, I won't take this shit to court. Draggin' my whole life through mud and havin' Hutch and me treated like …..like you're treatin' us now because everything gets coated in muck – not just the accused, but the victim too.

I'm not havin' that done to me – to Hutch and me. I've been fucked over enough already by Ryan, I don't need anyone else to give me another round…"

He was struggling now, breathing too fast and too shallow and his earlier spark of bravado had been leached out by his need to attempt once more to express what had been locked deep inside him for weeks and weeks. The cost of doing so had exhausted him and with shaky legs he stood, holding onto the side of the couch for support.

At the sight of his partner's rapidly wilting composure Hutch was instantly alarmed.

"Starsky? Hey are you ok?"

The two men in the room who were watching them were forgotten.

"No ….Yes….It's ok Hutch….I just need to go….I'm fine…just want to go to the bathroom, be alone for a moment or two."

"No …..look, wait…I'll help you in."

"Hutch. Please. NO. Just let me be alone…..need a bit of space here ok? Finish up here first please. Get this behind us. Nothin' more for me to say."

He turned to the two officers.

"Like to say that it's been a pleasure, but I think you'd pick that I'm not bein' too sincere with ya' both. If you'll excuse me….I have a need to be somewhere with a door between the world and me. Reality stinks like shit and talking about this just ….. Don't take it personally guys – the world and me just ain't doin' too well together lately. "

"Starsk? I'll let them out – we can finish off tomorrow…."

The two men were now looking bewildered and uncertain of their place in this private interchange that was a living, breathing dialogue that defied their presence.

"Hutch! Stop it! I need some freakin' space –"

With that he pushed off Hutch's restraining hand and walked the few steps to the bathroom. The door slammed behind him.

Hutch stared hard at the ground and dry rubbed his face, pushed his hair back off his head and with his hands clasped tightly at the back of his neck, he looked hard at the ceiling.

Michael's self-conscious cough dragged his eyes back to the two men and his face instantly darkened as if he had only just realized that he was sitting with the enemy.

"Seems like your partner is not doing so well. Sure he was ready to come out of hospital?"

The laugh from Hutch in response was dripping with sarcasm.

"You tell me boys. Was he ready to have this sort of crap thrown at him? Was he ready for you two to give him the drill as though he was the guilty party? This is the second time this has happened to him in two days. Christ no wonder he doesn't want to press formal charges and testify against Ryan. How does he compare to Ryan Lancaster? Does he look fucked up like that emotionally? No – I'm sure he doesn't. After all, it's just one big sick game to Ryan. Starksy just happens to be the cop, the person he has decided to use. He has built a whole world of his own based on sick delusions that Starsky is in fact involved with him sexually. Can't you see through him for what he is? Ryan doesn't need the IA. He needs a fucking straight jacket."

"Look Hutchinson, Barker and I can see that you're severely pissed off big time because we have asked some questions that have rattled your partner severely – but our job is to address the statements that we have in front of us and to establish credibility of each of the parties involved here. That means touching on issues that concern Starsky's sexuality because that is the nature of the case we are investigating. There has been a claim that one senior officer has carried out a protracted sexual harassment and then launched a violent sexual attack on another senior officer. We have to look at it from the perspectives that involve sexual deviancy."

Hutch's temper flared and he sat forward his hands cutting the air as he reasoned.

"Sexual deviancy. Well then for Christ sake, let's get down to the facts here. Cut the shit about Starsky and me and our relationship. What about what has been done to Starsky? You want to talk sexual deviancy? Look at the facts. Not speculation. Isn't that what you guys are interested in…who is the bad cop, who is the good cop? Starsky and Ryan. Lets not talk about the career records of these two cops – they've both got impressive sheets. Or so it seems…but if you guys were prepared to dig a little deeper you'll find a lot more about the respected Detective Lancaster that you never knew about. Putting that aside though…this incident…this latest situation… We have Ryan Lancaster who has been shot and wounded by a junior officer. This junior officer who having suspicions where he believed I as his senior officer and Starsky as my partner may be in danger or under threat by Ryan - arrived at a scene where he found all three officers inside. Upon entry he finds his senior office bound by his own cuffs to a chair, Starsky bound, beaten, wounded and naked on a bed. He is then openly threatened at gunpoint by Ryan and despite efforts to subdue him, needs to shoot in self-defense and to protect the other two officers.

But there's more than that. There's a history behind Ryan's supposed clean career sheet. I know there must be evidence that Ryan and his Captain - Dobson have had other episodes where officers in his own precinct have complained or asked for transfers because of his behavior of a similar inappropriate nature.

This alone should be enough. More than enough to take Ryan's badge. Get him off the streets for good. How can your Department possibly turn your head on this one – even if the Captain of the Nineteenth supports his man? Even if you don't consider what has gone on before with the obvious mishandling of the Kalzo case and the psychological jerking around Starsky had to endure which ended in him having to throw his badge down?"

There was a tremulous edge to his voice now and he was out of breath but pushed on – mindful that he wanted to get this out.

"You have got to give us something here. Something. The facts are on the table – even if you take out the proof of actual rape because Starsky isn't able to state clearly – or not to lie and say that he can – which he won't because that is what good clean cops do – not assholes like Ryan who lie like filthy dirty cops. His entire statement was a filthy lie. His entire career has been a filthy lie. We want something here – Starsky needs to know – fucking hell I need to know – that IA will not leave us out in the cold here with this. Starsky has been through fucking hell – I'm asking you not to walk away on this and close the file because …..shit….well just because there may be pressure from higher up in Ryan's precinct. "

Spent now he fell back on the couch and looked toward the bathroom. The two IA men once more quickly dismissed from his mind. His head was elsewhere now. He had said what he had wanted to say.

Now he just wanted them gone.

He needed to go to his partner.

He said to them as much when he turned his ice blue eyes on them.

"I need to check on my partner. You need to leave now. If you want to discuss anything else, give me a call…but I will not be coming into your office tomorrow while I have my partner to watch over and I will not be bringing Starsky in again while he is like this."

Michaels picked up the files from the coffee table and shared a glance with his own partner.

He seemed to be deciding something in his own head before he eventually held up his hand to have Hutch remain in his seat a while longer.

"Look – we can see that you need to have some privacy here…but just hear me out now. You'll no doubt get a call later today from your own Captain because we have already run this precaution past him and he is hopefully arranging some contingency plan for the two of you."

Hutch stopped in his actions to shove the two men out the door as quickly as he could – concerned that the bathroom door remained firmly closed.

"What plans are you talking about? Dobey is in on this? Has this got to do with your intervention on this case or just his?"

"Let's just say to you that by tomorrow afternoon it would be in yours and your partner's best interests to be get out of the city for a few days. Just to prepare you both for that. Your Captain is looking into somewhere that you can get your partner to but where there is still medical assistance should he need it with his post surgery recovery."

"So….what are you saying here Michaels? Is this the 'something' I was asking for? That Starsky was asking for and you didn't tell him? Are you saying that we need to get somewhere safe because of what you are going to say or do to Ryan?"

"Hutchinson – you know we can't inform you of disciplinary actions involving other officers so don't ask. However…..given that Starsky is unwell and you may need to make some arrangements in a hurry…as it may ….the heat could be rising around here by tomorrow. Won't be any good for Starsky to be around it….lets just leave it at that shall we? Get him to the place that Dobey will have for you. Stay there till the heat drops. Dobey will let you know soon enough what the final outcomes for our investigation are."

Suddenly there was more oxygen in the room for him and he hungrily dragged in a deep cleansing breath.

"Thanks for warning me of the changes ahead. I'll make sure that we're ready to head off."

"Well it's not everything…but you just asked for something…and….look we can see that your partner is doing it tough after all of this. Despite what you like to think about us we're not always the bad guys. But also so Starsky knows…there's some work ahead for him before we'll be allowing Dobey to hand his badge back. He's got a hell of a lot to work through as a result of what has happened. Once you get back from your trip, he's going to need to consider starting that work."

"He'll move on that when he's ready. I just want him physically better first and to make sure that Ryan is kept out of his face. And...I want you to make that happen."

"We'll be discussing those matters with the two Captains involved. We'll also be recommending that you too could benefit from some time with a counselor. The reports reflect that you've both been through a rough time. Your young rookie – Riley isn't it…he let us know that this whole thing has been highly stressful for you both. You've got a doting student there Hutchinson – he's a nice kid, sound officer."

"Yes I know that. I couldn't be more proud of him."

"Ok then – we'll leave you. But please – take our advice – or at least follow your Captain's orders – clear the city by tomorrow and stay low for a while. You should have some definite news to give your partner on Lancaster by tomorrow – Dobey will get back to you with the outcome of our decisions. In the meantime – take care of your partner."

"I can manage my partner. I think you have worked out that we depend on each other to pull through the tough times. I'm hoping that you guys can make your power count with Ryan."

"Fine. Well you'll hear from us through your Captain."

He stood for a moment or two when the door had closed behind them – stilling his mind and preparing himself to approach his partner.

He had no idea what was happening for Starsky behind the closed door of the bathroom, but deciding that he was long overdue for his pain medication thought that this was as good as any reason for him to make a move back into his friend's personal space.

Returning from the kitchen with the bottle of tablets and a glass of water he knocked lightly on the door.

"Hey in there? Starsky? It's safe to come out. I've gotten rid of them."

His light statement elicited no response.

"Starsky? Open up. You must be well and truly needing some pain relief by now ."

Worried now at the continued lack of response he tried the door.

It wasn't locked but when he tried to push it open a little it stuck…Starsky was obviously against the door.

"Buddy….Are you alright? The door…..Starsky answer me."

"Jesus Hutch, just go away will ya'?"

"No - I won't fucking go away. Now move so I can push this door open."

There was a grunt and a dragging sound as Starsky moved. With the door open Hutch found his partner sitting on the tiled floor, having shuffled over enough from where he had obviously been leaning on the door, to allow Hutch to squeeze in.

"Why are you sitting on the damn hard, cold bathroom floor?"

"Because this is a bathroom that's why and this is the floor. Where else do you suppose I sit? On the John? In the bath? It's the only place in your home with a freakin' door, that's why I'm here. Maybe we both better get bigger places so that when asshole IA bastards come visitin' we can go somewhere to get away from them - other than the bathroom."

He gave the faintest glimmer of a grin.

Hutch lowered himself down beside his partner and pushed his shoulder up against him to support one side of his slumping body.

"I know…I know…those bastards got you so worked up. But at least it's out of the way. Now are you going to come out of here and have some food to go with these pills that are way overdue? You need to eat and drink or you'll end up dehydrated. "

But his dark haired partner was far from interested in Hutch's words.

"Hutch the shit they were saying'? That is why…you understand….I just can't go through all of that in a courtroom. Ryan's taken so much of me already. I won't let him take anymore by putting us both through all of that pain. I wanted to fuckin' smash that IA guys face in…. I get done over by Ryan and they make _you_ out to be the filthy pervert."

"Starsk it's ok. They were just following the natural line of questioning. It's ok."

"NO IT'S NOT OK ! I FUCKING HATE THAT THIS HAS HAPPENED TO ME AND NOW TO YOU. – The way they looked at you out there! At us! Like I'm never gonna be clean again. Like what we have together is dirty and tainted. Like all I'm good for is to be fucked up the ass ….. …because I must enjoy it…..asked for it….. …his hands on me….not caring hands like yours…not gentle and caring, but ...cruel hands...painful, hurtful, squeezing me…..Oh my God …. ….his hands…his voice….his smell, I can smell him now...he's on me...he's pushin'...Oh Jesus, help me..."

His voice faltered as sweat beaded on his forehead and the blood drained from his face and lips. He struggled to get purchase on the slippery floor, lunging forward onto his knees toward the toilet, but fell short of the mark and collapsed sideways onto his side. He managed to keep one arm under his body as he tipped to the side and heaved hard. Again and again.

"Ah, Starsky – Starsk…..here, let me….just lean forward, I've got you. Let it out, I can clean it up later. Just let it all out. Let it go. All of it...get it out. That's the way. Don't fight it, relax into it. I've got you..."

His body writhed with each contortion that seized him and had him curling over painfully, gagging at the bilious vomit that erupted from him with each spasm that drove his stomach up into his chest.

"Hutch….Oh God…..Make it stop please. Make it stop…..I need you so much... to make it stop."

It wasn't the state of being sick that Starsky wanted gone from his body. Without the right words Hutch still knew what his partner was begging him to do. He was pleading with Hutch to rid him of something far more destructive, but something that Hutch was powerless to stop. The memories, flashbacks, images – of Ryan raping him. Over and over as it replayed in his mind.

The protective barriers that Starsky's subconscious had laid down after that terrible night were collapsing, crumbling, breaking down. The reprieve was over and Starsky was now going to have to confront the event all over again, and the realization that he would need to watch him go through it a second time, maybe multiple times, had Hutch digging down in himself for the strength to bear it.

How could he witness such raw pain again and still not be able to stop it?

He held desperately to his flailing friend doing his best to still his jagged breaths and contain his wild tormented struggles. As if to escape his own body Starsky clawed at his face, chest and neck as he continued to dry retch – his stomach empty of all contents but thin streams of muddy bile.

"Oh Starsk…..I wish I could…only wish I could. I'd take it all away from you and stop the pain but I can't. If only there was someway – but there isn't."

Mopping with the towel that he had reached for and trying to wipe up the worst of the sick stickiness from the deathly white face and chest, Hutch struggled hard at the same time to restrain Starsky's two shaking hands. Starsky continued to fight him, trying to rake his own neck, clawing at his own throat as if by tearing it open he would be able to taste the oxygen he so craved.

"I don't want to remember it …I don't want to remember him. He's coming back to get me again Hutch. Don't let him come in and get me. Keep the doors closed. Lock the door, keep him out. Stay with me and don't let him touch me. Not again. Oh God not again. Hutch promise me that'll you'll stop him… don't let him get you too….don't let him tie you down to that chair. I need you to stop him for me."

He was crying in earnest now – gasping sobs of fear and anguish as the images flashed through his head and the sneering deep voice of the black-haired devil rang in his ears. He coughed and spluttered against hot tears and choked on a nose dripping with mucus and a throat clogged with bitter bile and thin vomit. He began to battle with Hutch's arms which were holding his hands away from his throat – ripping so hard at his skin that he drew blood.

"Starsky! Listen to me! You need to breathe…relax…slow …slow …you're not getting any air. Let me take your hands from around your throat…easy, easy….let go."

"_I want to fuck your brains out Lover. Gonna love you so hard that this cock is going to ram right through you – up your ass so high that it will push right up into your GodDamn throat. You're mine Starsky – mine to fuck till you bleed, mine to own to fill you up. You're not Hutchinson's – your mine. You'll never forgot my feel, my touch….the pain of my cock inside you filling you up."_

"He's here again Hutch. In this room. Close the door – lock the window. Keep him out. He's here – can't you hear him and see him?"

"No he's not here Starsky – he's not here. Only your memories are here. I won't let him get you ever again Starsky. Never again. And I'm so so sorry I couldn't make him stop last time. He won't get me this time – I'm here with you now and he won't get near you. You're just remembering – it's not real, you know that. Tell yourself this is not real. These are memories – but your safe here now. Hold on tight. Hold me tight, that's right ….see he's not here anymore. Just me, not him. My hands, not his. My hands holding you Starsky….no more hurt or pain."

"I tried to hold him back – tried to hold his voice away and his hands away but I kept hearing him and feeling him. I can almost feel him on me Hutch. In me ….God he was in me ….ripping me up, so hard. He wouldn't stop – his cock – his cock was ripping me and I …..Hutch did he …..I can remember …he was trying to ram it in my mouth and slappin' me because…. Oh God why is it so fucking real?"

"Sssshhh…..its just feels real …but its not. The thoughts and memories are flashbacks Starsky – its just more vivid than memories because your mind blocked it out the first time. But this is not real. You're here in my bathroom with me – no one else. He's not here and he won't be here. I'll kill him before he touches you again. He's gone. Gone."

They were both a mess. Sitting on a wet floor both of them covered in stinking acrid watery vomit and bile, Starsky's face and hair damp with sweat and thin runny mucus that poured from his nose and Hutch's hands slippery with all of it – his partner's sweat, vomit, mucus and tears…all of it. All of it - the manifestation of fear, bright red , searing fear that slammed through Starsky in great rolling waves as the flashbacks surged and broke around him. The tiled walls and floor of the small bathroom morphed into the opulent bedroom of the ocean front house. Flashes of the past became the present and pulled him under into the dark depths of a waking nightmare.

He had begun rocking him back and forth gently as his words picked up a lulling rhythm to match his gently moving body.

"Sssshhhh. Just breathe and hold tight to me – to now. This is now. Now is all that matters. Not the past. No badness, just goodness here now. No hurt, no pain. Just breathe, breathe. Safe, you're safe. With me…with Hutch. No one else, just us. Breathe, breathe. "

His legs were dead, asleep from the continued cramped position and his back was starting to scream, his arms aching with fatigue – but still he rocked and chanted the soothing words – over and over and over. He went on for longer than he needed to for he realized that Starsky was quiet and finally subdued and relaxed in his arms. The exhaustion of his ordeal had finally overtaken him – the haunting horror of Ryan had left his mind in peace for now. Just for now. And that was enough. It had to be.

There was the need to get them both up. Get them up, bathed and dressed in fresh clothes. To clean yet another layer of stinking filth from his partner's skin and soul - the layer of contamination that Ryan had soiled him with, coated him in.

He sat with the blackness, the black coloured pain of cramping muscles and the coldness, the cold seep of the sharp tang of vomit and fear. Blackness and the cold.

But the white calm inside of him and the warmth of his lightly sleeping partner was the contrast he needed and he wanted to hold onto that just a little while longer.

The white - pure white and warmth.

He sat and held his partner for just a while longer.

SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH 


	24. Chapter 24

**Then Neither Can He**

**Chapter 24**

* * *

Much later when he had him settled into the bed, clean and dry and medicated he turned his efforts to bundling up the soiled clothing and cleaning up the even more soiled bathroom.

He did all of this on autopilot and welcomed the methodical and measured pace that these small mundane tasks demanded of him. His body moved mechanically and efficiently, each step of the domestic task distancing his consciousness from what he had just experienced with his partner in the bathroom. His mind was overloaded and over wired – as though just one more small, single thought or spoken word about Starsky's pain could bring his entire center crashing down.

Little had been said between them since Starsky's breakdown in the bathroom. His partner had retreated into himself when Hutch had helped him up from the floor, undressed him and once more filled a warm bath for him. After showering and changing himself he had barely managed to get his drowsy partner to bed before the pain medication took its hold on him and swept him under into a place where hell receded even if for a while. Hutch was never more grateful to see the sedative effects of a drug kicking in to fade out the sharp edges of the flashback episode.

Starsky had eventually fallen into a deeper sleep, the emotional storm that had torn through him having exhausted his already weak body.

Before the phone could ring again and disturb the sleeping form he decided to pre-empt communication with Dobey and so dragging the phone into the corner of the kitchen he put the call through to the precinct.

His Captain picked up the transferred call quickly.

Never one for wordy interchanges, Dobey's gruff voice cut to the point. Despite the usual brusque overtones however and knowing his Captain as well as he did, Hutch caught the unspoken concern beneath the terse words.

"So – they've been?"

"Yeah they were here much earlier."

"How did you both manage them?"

Hutch knew he was referring to how he and his partner handled themselves with the IA officers – their reputation with that side of the Department notoriously strained and fraught with drama.

"We managed them."

Devoid of all mental energy he didn't elaborate.

"How is he?"

"He's…starting to struggle with it all. He needs….we need some resolution."

"We'll know by tomorrow what they'll do with Lancaster. In the meantime – I've had advice from them and from the Commissioner, to move you two someplace a little quieter. To get some space between the both of you and Lancaster."

"That's what the IA guys said. So where?"

"I'm sending Riley over with the paperwork and the keys. He'll also drive over an unmarked car – I don't want you taking the Torino – I'll arrange to have it garaged. A black and white will pick Riley up when he's through with you. I know he wanted to see you before you left – so it made sense to let him be the one to bring it to you. He'll come by early in the morning. I want you on the road and out of the city by nine."

"I'll have to get Starsky's gear packed up – suppose we can do that in the morning."

"Riley will follow you over to Starsky's place in the patrol car – they can remain outside till you get what you need."

"Captain – I won't need a patrol car or a backup officer if Ryan shows his fucking face to Starsky again."

"That's what I'm afraid of. I know that full well. And that's the reason I'm not handing your gun back to you Hutch – you need to know that now. Your Magnum won't be among the stuff that Riley will be handing over to you tomorrow. Not until all of this mess is behind us."

"You want me to take Starsky away and have him unprotected?"

"No gun Hutch – that's final. This time away is about getting you both to a place where you can put all of this away and move on – get your partner well enough to get back on the streets. You too - you're nearly as messed up as he is. You both need space and time. I know your partner is less patient about these things than you are. He doesn't do well with facing up to emotional issues, never has been one for talking it out. Starsky needs you to be there with him while he does that – not to be a vigilante for him. You can't sort out this disaster with a gun pointed in Ryan's face. "

"Then you had better fucking make certain that you and the rest of the Department keep Starsky's back covered because if you let that monster back near him when you have denied me the right to carry – "

"That's why I'm doing this Hutchinson – the Commissioner too – this has gone far enough. This whole situation has become a powder keg for the entire Department – you and Starsky need to be away from here for a while."

"Ok….Alright. We'll do it your way – for now. I want to know as soon as a decision is made about Ryan."

"I promise you that I'll call you at the number you'll be on as soon as I have something to tell you. Just make sure you have Starsky out of here by mid morning. IA are meeting with Dobson and Lancaster around nine."

oooOOOoooOOOooo

Not long off the phone with Dobey Hutch found his partner once more awake and agitated. Refusing to remain in bed he had once more settled on his corner of the couch and was disinterested in the light meal that Hutch brought over to him.

At another time a well placed joke about the demise of the famous Starsky appetite might have lightened the heavy despondency, but tonight with them both wrung out from emotional overload, Hutch let it go.

Unsuccessful in enticing Starsky into eating any more than a few mouthfuls of supper he had settled for watching him drink some juice and coffee.

While he encouraged the fluids onto him, he told Starsky about Dobey's call and the arrangements to have them both moved to temporary safe accommodation. Careful to downplay any referencing to Dobey's warning that some extensive counselling sessions were on the cards, he attempted to make the concept of them leaving Bay City purely as an opportunity for some downtime away from bureaucratic interference. However he sold it, Starsky seemed to buy it or rather was not even interested enough to question Hutch any further on the matter. He had little to say about the trip away or little to say about anything in fact and remained flat and withdrawn in front of a television show that he was looking at but not seeing.

Early in the evening Hutch suggested that they both turn in for the night, secretly reaching a point where he could no longer look at the pain etched deep into the face he knew as well as his own. He had begun to convince himself that there were now new lines on his face that had not been there weeks before. Lines that told of fear and hurt, lines that were sculpted by self doubt and pain. Deeper lines that were gouged by humiliation and shame. Was it possible? Could human anatomy change that much so quickly?

If he looked at Starsky's face any longer tonight he knew that he would be convinced the answer was "yes". He wanted his partner's old face back and those fresh new lines of personal angst to be wiped away. Could the damage be undone as quickly as it had been done? What would it take to bring back the face that he knew as well as his own? To bring back the face of his best friend?

How long had it been, he tried to remember - since he had seen the light in those dazzling blue eyes with their tiny radiating lines of happiness, the crooked smile, the impish grin? How long had it been since he had wanted to tell Starsky to "Shut up for God's Sake." To pull his head in. Slow down in the car. Quit hogging all the beer. Leave at least one slice of pizza for him. Stop being so obvious when he was looking down the waitress's cleavage or eyeing off another's bare midriff. Turn off those fucking cartoons. Wake up and stop sleeping in. Lay off the wisecracks and the corny jokes. Stop wrestling him to the floor when he least expected it or smacking him over the head with a pillow just because he felt bored. Quit the whining and the whinging because he was hungry, thirsty or had a cold?

Where was that Starsky?

He was gone, or at least he had been gone for longer than Hutch could tolerate. Missing in action – the whole Starsky. Missing, lost - and Hutch was missing all the parts of him that made the two of them who they were as a team. For, without the whole Starsky, Hutch no longer felt like he knew who he himself was anymore. For so many years they had merged into oneness, fused their two totally different personalities into one, that it was now as though he had was navigating life without a roadmap. Without the other half of his his oneness, there was for him only a sense of nothingness.

Ryan had done this. Ryan had robbed him of the essence of his friend – his liveliness and his brightness. Taken away the light and left behind the dark.

_How can it be possible to do all of that, to fuck up two lives so badly in such a short period of time? How had this happened? _

Hutch considered the question as he roamed quietly about his small house shutting it down for the night. For two cops who were street wise and pro-active with keeping each other alive their guards had really slipped to allow this animal to trespass - to allow Ryan to crash through their barriers.

As he began turning out the lamps in the living room he watched Starsky following him about the room with his clouded eyes as he lay in the bed.

"The door Hutch – remember to check the door. The window in the kitchen too."

And Starsky's fearful words cut through to him. So very unlike Starsky it shocked him to the core.

"Sure buddy. All checked. All secure."

He crossed the room and walked over to stand beside the bed.

He didn't stop to speak. His next actions were definitive and there was not a moment of hesitancy in his moves. Without verbalizing about it any way Hutch pulled back the covers to the bed and slipped into the space that he knew Starsky had silently left for him – hoping that Hutch would know that it was what he needed and wanted from him. Leaning over his partner he clicked off the bed lamp and lay down carefully so as not to bump Starsky's side. He placed one hand on the taut forearm next to him as a physical assurance of his presence in the darkened room.

"Hey you make sure you jab me in the ribs if I roll onto your wound through the night ok?"

"Hutch?"

"Yeah Starsk?"

"What if it happens again tonight? Like in the bathroom today? What if I see him and feel him again?"

"Then I'll be right here beside you Starsky to kick his motherfucking ass right out of this bed and right out of your mind."

His voice held no humour only deadly seriousness.

"But he'll still get in – shit I can't stop him from gettin' into my mind in the first place."

"No maybe not right now, not just yet – but in time you'll learn how to keep him out for good. When you're strong enough, when you're ready and therapy will help you find the way so that he will never have power over you again. I think Starsky that this is one time you're going to have to agree to some regular sessions with a therapist. I don't want you to argue on that one."

"What if I'm not able to do it – to make it stop? What if this.. just completely…. destroys me forever, makes me useless and ….well like I feel now….all broken up."

The sheer desolation and fear in his partner's voice had Hutch tightening his grip on his friend and as he turned to touch the curly hair in the dark, knew that the deep blue eyes would be anguished and full of self-doubt.

"That's not possible Starsky – you're just too strong for that. Way too strong for that. And besides, I won't settle for a partner who is broken . I need a whole partner – doesn't matter if it takes time to get there, but I will expect it by the time you're back on the streets with me. So – you'd better know I wouldn't allow you to stay broken or feel destroyed forever. Besides, who knows? It might be my turn again soon – I might be needing you to make _me_ feel whole again. I've been having some time off from being broken lately – but you never know when I'll need you again like before – with Forrest. I might have to recalculate your quota of feeling 'broken' time."

There was the start of what might have been the lightest of chuckles but it died before it took form and instead Starsky brought his hand up as he had done during the IA interview, to cover Hutch's where it lay firmly around his forearm.

"Christ Hutch, we make a great pair don't we? Two often-broken and fucked up Cops with only each other to put us back together."

"Hey. We've gotten this far in life, and we've done pretty damn good jobs so far in getting each other whole again when we've been fucked up. There's no reason it won't be the same this time Starsky."

"Yeah…but maybe it won't be enough …I mean…shit…I'm a long way down this time Hutch. So far down I'm startin' to feel shit scared that I can't get back up – and that I'm gonna be draggin' you down with me. Like the way it was this afternoon….with those freakin IA guys. I'm dirty Hutch, dirty and fucked up. That's how others will see me….that's how I see myself. That's how I feel Hutch. Like fuckin' filth. And others are goin' to make you feel dirty and filthy by bein' with me. I don't want you to stick around with me to try to put this broken up mess back together. I've told you that before, and now it's even worse – I was a mess before he did this…before the beach house, and now – I'm totally –"

"Starsky stop it now. I've heard enough. Nothing you can say is going to make me agree with you or make me doubt your strength or my plans for life. I made a plan a long time ago to keep you safe partner, to watch your back. Whatever that means and however I have to do it….its my plan in life and what I want to do. It's not just a responsibility I chose, it's what I want to do. I hope and I think I know you well enough to realize that it's something you reciprocate with me. So just shut up now about that shit about me being dragged down. The only thing that drags me down is seeing you do this to yourself. Seeing you hate yourself and doubt yourself. The only 'dirty, filth' in our life is ….Ryan…. Once he is out of your life, and in time, you'll be free of his contamination. We are going to get through this Starsky – WE, not you, but the two of us."

He went on as Starsky seemed to be calming a little beside him.

"Tomorrow, we are going somewhere, God knows where, and we are going to sit on our asses until we work all of this shit out. Both of us. The two of us. Who knows how long it'll take? Christ, so much has gone down with you it might take a damn long time. But there is one thing that is certain and before you close those tired eyes which I know are burning up with fatigue, I want you to know – you _will_ get past this Starsky. You will. We will."

"You know what Hutch?"

Finally the voice was losing its desperate quality, and Hutch could hear the muted tones of sleep threading through his words.

" Anyone ever tell you are one stubborn bastard?"

"Hey … make that - one stubborn partner. And don't you forget it. Now whenever you're ready I think your body is crying out for some rest – just give in to it will you? I'm here, not going anywhere. Give in and sleep Starsk. "

And finally he did.

oooOOOoooOOOooo

**Nineteenth Precinct 9.15 am following morning.**

"Officers Barker, Michaels…. Detective Sergeant Ryan Lancaster. Please take a seat."

Dobson showed the men in as he pulled out an extra two chairs for the IA contingent and motioned toward his tall dark officer who was standing to the side his arm in a light sling.

"Captain Dobson. Detective Lancaster. Glad you were able to move your schedule around to fit in this meeting. You can appreciate that we need to get these follow up interviews wound up as a matter of urgency."

"Yes I - we appreciate the time frame of getting this situation finalized. Detective Lancaster was only discharged yesterday from the Ventura Hospital."

"Yes we are aware of the circumstances."

Michaels was having his first look at the man in question, not having ever met Ryan Lancaster before. Over the last months he had laid eyes on the other two officers involved when meetings and corridor passings had allowed him and Barker to have visually identified Starsky and Hutchinson.

In contrast Lancaster was totally unknown to them and now they both took in the tall, severely handsome black-haired man with a powerful muscular build and a face that looked at both of them with almost a faint trace of boredom. After many years of interviews like these Michaels had got in to a habit of making quick conclusions based on first impressions and gut instinct. He prided himself on his inner radar, as it was only rarely that he was wrong in his quick summations of people. He studied Lancaster, appraising the overall impressive picture that the big man presented, as he stood leaning into the wall. Michaels thought to himself that the thin lips and sardonic mouth and flat dark eyes were two features that saved the tall Detective from symmetrical perfection and male beauty. These two features alone, not considering his stance and affect, hinted at an edge of coldness, a tainting of cruelty that left the beholder of his image wary, guarded in his presence. The sum of this man's parts should have equaled physical perfection but the sum of how those parts worked together added up to something that was far less than perfect and something far more than just imperfect. An indefinable 'something'. There was the quality, a feel about this dark hulking man that somehow just seemed 'wrong'. Michaels cast his eyes sideways to Barker to try to get a feel of his impressions of the man, and it did not surprise him to also see in his partner's eyes a reflection of his own appraisal of Lancaster.

"So I gather you two have met with Starsky and lover boy Hutchinson?"

Michaels did a double take. Not prepared for Lancaster to open the interview and taken off guard in the same instance, he immediately went on the defensive.

"Detective Lancaster, we are not here to disclose the nature or the content of our other debriefings regarding this case."

"Hey relax. I'm not interested in the politics of what you discussed with them, I just want to know how Starsky is? Obviously I'm worried sick about his physical condition, but could get precious all from the damn Ventura hospital staff. Is he looking ok? Did he ask after me?"

"Detective Lancaster, why would you think that Starsky would ask after your welfare? After the alleged altercation that transpired between you and him? "

Barker seemed a little nonplussed by Lancaster's attitude and blatant query concerning his own gratification.

"Why the hell do you think I'd be wondering about him and whether he's doing the same for me? Because he's all I'm thinking about. Our relationship. Hutchinson has him locked away from me as he always tries to do – trying to keep us apart. I'm sure you saw what he's like and witnessed how much he hates me and wants to keep Starsky from me. "

Barker and Michaels looked at Dobson who held their joint gazes for a long moment and then turned to the window as though the interview had already wearied him and he was pulling away from the process between the men.

"Lancaster are you oblivious to what has happened with you and Detective Starsky? To the recent events and the accusations that have been made against you? That you were shot and wounded by another officer in the course of that officer trying to extract Detectives Starsky and Hutchinson from what he perceived as a highly volatile situation involving you?"

"Of course I'm not fucking oblivious to the events! I'm just tired of trying to get my perspective understood here. I know you guys don't look too generously at 'my kind'….what I represent, what I am and have been for years. So now it's out there. Yes I am a homosexual, yes I am a homosexual in the city's Police Department and a senior officer – but I don't care about that anymore. No doubt you two do. I've known for a long time that it would come out eventually, and now it has. So too has my relationship with David Starsky. But I am not going to let the IA or the Department smear me or how I choose to live. I will not be judged through your prejudiced eyes. I've fought fucking long and hard to become the Cop I am - you won't strip me of that because of your narrow minded bigotry."

"I don't think that this investigation is judging anyone's sexual preferences Detective. This investigation is not a social exercise or a social debate. Internal Affairs is merely trying to make a recommendation based on a series of reported events that involve your alleged criminal behavior toward Detective Starsky. Your sexual preferences are secondary to this investigation. I suggest that you get off your soapbox and look at the real issue here. We are looking at an in-house allegation of violent rape. We are not addressing the issue of homosexuality amongst police."

Michaels paused and looked to Dobson who remained disengaged and peripheral to the dialogue around him.

"Captain, your officer has been made fully cognizant of the alleged complaints directed toward him in this most recent incident and previous ones – which until recently have remained unreported is that not so?"

"Yes he is – but he – does not concur with the allegations."

"Of course I don't concur - I will not be put in this position by Hutchinson and his junior sidekick who would say black was white if that's what his boss wanted him to say."

"What position is that exactly Lancaster?" Barker's frustration was mounting.

"A position where Hutchinson misrepresents every that has happened between Starsky and myself and has twisted the facts to suit his own possessive hold over his beloved partner. He's got Starsky brainwashed – has done for years. Boxed him in, won't let him out to have his own life, and now finally when Starsky and I have made the move to share our own sort of passion, it is killing Hutchinson. So he is trying to destroy my career and me. Yes I'm gay, yes Starsky and I share a gay relationship, but I won't take the rap that I've acted in a criminal way toward him."

"Lancaster, David Starsky denies sharing any sort of meaningful relationship with you beyond one that has been built on your repeated and violent advances. Advances that he vehemently denies he has ever accepted or encouraged from you."

"Did you interview him away from his blond-haired bodyguard and keeper?"

Michaels looked sharply at Barker and both averted their eyes from the challenging contempt of the black-haired man.

Ryan sneered and shook his head laughing at the two suits.

"No of course you didn't. Hutchinson wouldn't allow it would he? Lover boy decides who and what gets near Starsky and he plays mean when you try to cross the line he draws. Lucky you didn't push it with him. I've had his fist in my face and his hands on my neck for a hell of a lot less."

"Detective Starsky has had and continues to have every opportunity to talk to Internal Affairs and his own Captain if he has concerns about the validity of statements made by his partner."

"But he won't come to you and backstab Hutchinson. Never. They're too close as friends. Too ingrained as partners. Besides it's my belief that there's a part of him that enjoys the short leash Hutchinson keeps him on. It's that power thing that men get into you know. Just like why he and I enjoy experimenting with our own power plays in our relationship. Different to what he has with Hutchinson – more dangerous. He's tired of being confined and cosseted in safety by that big blond. Wants to explore his options, test out new waters. To live a little wild - with me. But look what happened when he did. We end up like this – with me and a bullet in the arm, and you suits breathing down our necks and nosing into our Division. We were doing fine here in the Nineteenth weren't we Captain? Until Hutchinson started to kick up a shit about his love life and what he was missing out on with Starsky when his partner went sniffing around for new blood. So Hutchinson blows the whistle on Starsky and me. Now we're all up for "investigation" ".

Barker broke in.

"You're doing a lot of talking about some supposed relationship you claim to share with Detective Starsky but have made no mention of the fact that you have been investigated for the violent rape of another officer."

"I believe he is not pressing charges."

"This does not alter the fact that as an internal investigation this allegation is serious and far reaching in its consequences for all involved."

"Its one man's word against another. Show me some proof – give me an objective witness' statement that I raped David Starsky and that we were not in fact having consensual sex."

"There was at least one other episode where an allegation was made that you broke into Starsky's home after he was recently discharged from hospital and threatened, attacked and attempted to rape him."

"Where is that report? I don't ever remember reading it, seeing it or in fact being privy to such a report at all. Captain Dobson? Can you clear this up for us? Did you ever receive an interdepartmental report that I attacked and tried to rape David Starsky in his home?"

Dobson's face was strained.

"Ryan you know damn well there was no formal report made at the time. This was done retrospectively by Hutchinson when he became concerned for Starsky's mental well being."

"And, isn't it true Captain that Hutchinson was made aware of the supposed attack on the very day it had happened?"

"Yes – he stated in the report that he found his partner only minutes later."

"But he did nothing about it? If he was that worried and he did in fact find Starsky in that state why not come forward? It's pretty damn obvious that he's shaped up a whole case against me with little or no proof."

It was obvious that Barker's patience was wearing dangerously thin.

"Hey Lancaster, this is not your show so back down will you? What the hell do you think you're doing here – holding court? We're not your jury here so shut up. Now let us do our jobs and keep your conclusions to yourself."

A harsh laugh split the silent pause in the room as Ryan turned away and headed toward the door.

"Go ahead. Unlike Hutchinson, I'm not about to argue when you want a separate interview. I don't think my Captain has any faults with my years of service to him and his Division. I've got a credible service record and don't think I will let you take my career from me because I've finally been forced out of the closet by a jealous partner."

oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOooo

**As you all might have gathered...this most recent chapter was delayed. Christmas stands aside for no man (or duo) not even apparently, Starsky and Hutch.**


	25. Chapter 25

**Then Neither Can He**

**Chapter 25**

* * *

"Captain Dobson, you realize we are going to have to recommend that your Detective hands over his badge."

"Yes I have accepted that this step is inevitable. In the past forty eight hours I have come to that conclusion myself. Ryan Lancaster ...is... far from well and his personal position with Detectives Hutchinson and Starsky makes his continuing career untenable."

Michaels seemed pleased that Dobson was not about to put up any sort of argument. He went on.

"It is not only his conduct in relation to Detective Starsky but previous ….transgressions with other officers that have - now started to come to light. You are aware of his past history whilst working under you at the Nineteenth?"

Dobson let himself fall heavily into the nearest chair, his face strained. He could almost feel his own haggard face as the two other men must see it, and what earlier in the meeting had been a low shimmer of anxiety was now a wave of weary frustration.

"Is that an accusation?"

Michaels fixed the Captain with a meaningful look. It was important that this transaction was handled carefully. To bypass Dobson's co-operation would mean expediency of the whole matter would be compromised. Dobson was the key to wrapping this whole thing up as quickly as possible with the least amount of public scrutiny.

"It depends on how you take it Captain. Let's say that if IA wants to spend the time and effort on digging deeper we may not be surprised to find that Lancaster's history of behavior is not limited to David Starsky. As his superior for the past few years we would be looking at your management of any such history which concerns or intercepts his intrapersonal difficulties with other officers of your Division."

The unspoken meaning of Michael's words was laid out for the three men. Michaels and Barker waited.

Dobson's response was short but promising.

"I understand. Is this then where you are heading? Or...is IA, or the Commissioner for that matter, looking for a more...direct route to end this fiasco with Lancaster."

"Based on what we have on the table right now with Lancaster – the most recent development of course being the shooting at the beach house involving Officer Riley, it would seem that this situation alone is enough for us to recommend his termination on the Force. The Commissioner has also advised us that he wants early and decisive resolution of this problem. The fallout of this… drama…could be highly destructive to the Department as a whole. The fact that David Starsky has decided at this juncture not to press formal legal charges is good news but cannot by any means be considered the end of the threat to the welfare of the Department's image."

"From what I gather , Starsky is firm on his intention not to take this matter through formal legal channels. I don't see him changing his mind on that position. I don't think the Department needs to have any worries in that regard."

"Perhaps you're right but you must also realize that both Hutchison and Starsky are hoping for some closure to this whole thing. I don't think they are going to walk away from this if they don't at least see Lancaster off the Force. Hutchinson in particular has made his stance blatantly clear to Dobey, yourself and the IA. The Commissioner is well aware of his stance and his not inconsiderable pulling power amongst the men in the Department. The last thing the Commissioner wants is virulent PR of the negative kind. Hutchinson won't pull any punches. "

"So what are you saying here boys? Either Ryan goes quietly or Ryan goes with a bang, but either way he goes? Why? Because you don't want to push Hutchinson into taking this matter higher or deeper?"

"Captain – judging from what we have learned from your own statements, Hutchinson is the one who will drive this case to its natural conclusion if he doesn't see an outcome he considers favorable for his partner. You more than anyone have felt the brunt of his antagonism toward Lancaster and yourself. From our recent meeting with him none of that antagonism has dimmed. You decide to back your officer on this one – than our advice to you is to be prepared. It won't be just Lancaster's neck on the line."

Barker tapped his pen thoughtfully on the files spread across the desk.

"So none of us, the two precincts involved, IA, the Commissioner and most certainly you personally need Hutchinson to open this whole thing up more than it already is. Either way Lancaster is through – it can be now, saving us all a lot of muckraking, or it can be later – but either way he will be gone. As Lancaster's superior, we are asking you to facilitate the end of this mess. Otherwise, we start looking elsewhere. …deeper….to finish it."

"Barker – be careful, you are sounding like you are issuing me with an ultimatum. A threat."

"You could look at it that way Dobson, if you have anything to be threatened by us taking a deeper look. Otherwise it is all about economics – no one wants to drag this out anymore than we have to. It's damn obvious that Ryan is finished. You can convince him to walk himself and keep his Employment Service privileges when he resigns from the job, or lose everything when we need to relieve him of his post. And, understand Dobson, we mean 'when' and not 'if'."

"A week ago I might have argued his case for him but in the past days he has shown me that he is becoming more unhinged. I am not particularly proud to see the corner he has pushed Starsky into and in my own opinion, I don't believe that Ryan has a sound grip on reality. In my consideration of all of this I believe that he will only deteriorate and become more dangerous. He's a damn good cop – was a damn good cop – but now ….."

"Now? It's damn obvious to all of us Dobson. You realize he's losing it fast and he'll take you down with him won't he?" Barker pushed.

The two men stood indicating the closure of the interview. Michael's last line was a clear directive.

"Cut him loose – or we will."

oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOooo

"So it comes to this?"

"Ryan you knew it had to…. You've put yourself and this precinct into an unthinkable position. IA have given me no alternative, and we have no where to move on this."

"You always found ways and places to move in the past – why the hell is this any different?"

"For Christ Sake! Get your damn head into reality. You are so deep in shit that the Commissioner is all over this one. This isn't just a minor complaint from another officer or one of your duty partners that has reported you for being ….. 'difficult' to work with. This can't be fixed by reshuffling staff or letting you take undercover assignments to take the heat that you've generated out of the squad room. This is a major incident involving multiple officers,two precincts, two different Police jurisdictions and the IA. This isn't about your homosexuality Ryan and you damn well know it."

"But you have simply bowed down to IA, you've thrown me over without support. You didn't have to think too hard about that now did you Captain? This time you're scared shitless for yourself aren't you? This time it's not just me is it? You know they would have looked at you too so you decided in what – a ten minute interview with those two IA dicks – to fuck me off and close the door to hide your own professional misconduct."

" Ten minutes? Ryan you have been a thorn in my side for years now and I have spend more hours than you will ever know covering your ass and fixing your messes up so that you can go on serving in my Division. You call what I did for you misconduct; I call it necessary leadership to keep my squad ticking over and functional. I dragged you out of knee deep crap more times than you will ever know. I watched your back and I saved your thankless ass time and again. I did it for the Department. Because underneath it all Ryan, I considered you a fucking good officer. One that the Department had invested good money and time into training and finessing. You were a good product Ryan. But then you started to go to seed. The good you did was less than the damage you were causing. And now, well now you've gone too far. I can't clean up your shit anymore and I don't want to. You need help Ryan. You need professional help and you need to be off the streets. You've been using your power in all the wrong ways and its time that I made the decision I should have made after you went under with Starsky on the Kalzo case."

"What the fuck do you mean by that? You know damn well that the IA cleared me every step of the way with the Kalzo case."

"Hutchinson claims that Starsky was not coming forward with the full picture – that you had some sort of hold over him and so he backed up your take on what happened during that operation. Why did you leave Starsky in that alley with a knife in his belly? We'll never know will we Ryan?"

Ryan smiled now and leaned into Dobson. His face was pure malice, thin lips drawn tight on a closed mouth and eyes narrowed.

"I know why Starsky never told you why I left him in that alley. Maybe Hutchinson has got his own back to watch, just like you Dobson, just like you. He's got heavy shit in his own corner and neither Starsky nor him want it brought out. I could blow all that open now. Take him down - and you- with me. Everyone's got something to hide. "

"Ryan for God's sake listen to yourself. It doesn't matter anymore what you might or might not have on Hutchinson – he's made it clear that he will do whatever he has to for Starsky's protection. This case is about you – not Hutchinson. You and your ….. psychological functioning. It's gone beyond you trying to move everyone around on some sort of chessboard with your strategies covering your own behaviours - your threats against others. No one wants to hear your threats anymore Ryan. Everyone has stopped listening to your strategies. You've lost the game. Try to look at this rationally. I'm giving you the clear chance now to hand over your badge. Take leave of your position due to job related stress. I will clear it with the Department that you retain all of your Service Benefits – in full. You just have to leave without a fight and you have to leave immediately. If you don't, IA will have you out within another day or two anyway and with no benefits and a tainted record. What would you rather?"

"I'd fucking rather that as my Captain you stood up for what you know the truth is and I got to keep my job. I'm one of the best Detectives you've ever had and you know it you bastard."

"I don't know what the truth is anymore Ryan and the frightening thing is that you know what it is even less than I do. I really don't see how you could have imagined this whole thing was going to end any other way than how it has."

"How about it ending with Hutchinson and Riley losing their badges for shooting a fellow officer in a bid for personal revenge against me for taking his lover from him. Why should it be me walking away from my career and not him?"

Dobson was tired of this – tired of this relentless pursuit by a hostile and disturbed man to secure God knew what with another Detective at the cost of everyone's sanity, including his own.

"You know Ryan. I've really have to ask you this. What is it that you want to achieve? You claim you have a relationship with Starsky? Is that what you want then? Him? Just him? Or is it to destroy everything in Starsky's life so that you can feel that you have somehow got to wherever you want to be with him? Now all you've done is destroy your own life in many ways, because I do know that you were a damn good cop and that you liked being that good cop. You've turned your back on that and sacrificed it all for what...some imagined relationship with another man who wants nothing to do with you.

I hope whatever you were striving to achieve has been worth all of this."

"You have absolutely no fucking idea what you are talking about. You know nothing about what I have with Starsky and what I will have on or off the Force. So shut your mouth you fucking traitor. You sold me out to the IA. You sold out another officer - one of your best. You get to live with that for the rest of your life you limp dicked coward."

"You have till four o'clock this afternoon to have the paperwork on my desk for your resignation. If I don't have that by four, you'll be dealing with IA for the rest of your limited time in this Department."

You're dismissed."

Dobson willed himself not to flinch or draw back when Ryan's big frame loomed across the desk and into his space.

"You won't need to wait till four. You'll have it a lot sooner than that. I don't plan to hang around this place any longer than I have to. It stinks like shit in here. The stink of coward's shit."

oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOooo

Three hours later Dobson put the call through.

He waited for the pick up and listened for the gruff voice.

"Captain Dobey."

"It's done. I have his resignation, badge and gun. He left the building about fifteen minutes ago. I have to inform IA after this call but I knew you'd be waiting."

"Was he abusive, threatening? Say anything about Starsky?"

"No more than his usual manner. He would have been crazy to turn down the offer to walk with full privileges. Not a word about Starsky, though still damn full of hate for Hutchinson. Lots of fresh hate for me. "

"I've had them moved. The Commissioner wants them out of the picture for quite a while. Haven't told them that part of it yet. He wants this mess wiped clean before they come back – either of them. I'm going to put a general watch on Lancaster for the next week or so till things cool down. I'd like to say that there is no way he can track Starsky down…but this is Lancaster we're talking about here."

"With the way he has been in the last days I'd say that is a wise move. I didn't mention any restraining order – didn't want to aggravate him anymore than I had to - I wasn't convinced I'd get him to lay down his badge."

"I'll have him watched closely for the next seventy two hours and then decide what to do about the order. It's not going to be a deterrent to him if he wants to get to Starsky, you know that. But in the longer run it will get him effectively removed if he does violate the order. I'll talk it over with Hutchinson. I'll be keeping in contact with them over the next few weeks. "

Dobey paused and each man held the silent phone piece reflecting on the news of Ryan's departure and the finale to what had been a highly stressful period of time for both Captains.

"Look – I just wanted to say to you….I know its been hard watching Ryan slip into this crazy role, deteriorate like he has….only another Captain knows how hard it is watching what was a good cop let go of everything. To see him let go of what he had, who he was and what he gave his Division. I know that for a long time you supported him, stood by him. But in the end you did the only thing you could by siding with the IA."

"Harold I know that – intellectually I know that. But nothing prepares you for - well for being there while one of your best men just slides into total badness. I feel that I've got a lot to answer for in not acting earlier to stop his self-ruination – and for what he did to your two Detectives. I'm not feeling too proud of myself right now."

oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOooo

Hutch had to make a deliberate effort to tell his brain to ease off on the signals that his neurons were sending to his jaw muscles. He had his jaw clamped together so hard that it ached and his wondered if his teeth were audibly gnashing. Next he ordered his hands to release their death grip on the car wheel so that some blood perused back into the white knuckles.

He was freaking angry.

And confused.

Well, more confused than angry now.

And unbearably tense.

And worried all over again on another level that he had never even thought about worrying about. Until this morning. Well no - that was not strictly true. He had worried - just fleetingly, a couple of times when it had come up.

About it.

But nothing like now.

What the fuck was going on with Starsky and his attitude to Riley?

What had begun weeks ago as a mild feeling, and then become an occasional measured observation, had this morning transmuted into a shocking realization that something was very definitely going on - with Starsky and his attitude to Riley.

Unable to verbalize anything to his partner since they had climbed into the car, Hutch stole snapshot glimpses of the silent man who sat tense and rigid beside him.

They had been on the open road for about an hour, the city limits well behind them and the fresh breeze blowing the tang of salty air through the open car windows. Hutch was driving, the car was packed only lightly with each of their overnight bags and enough food provisions to get through two days. Riley had handed over the keys and the instructions regarding their destination and accommodation.

There remained in the car an uneasy air between the two men – each harbouring a defined mental and physical space. The normally blurred edges of their forces were sharpened and distinct, a rift between them that was in such strong contrast to the incredible closeness that had both shared only the night before. For once the open channel between them was suspended as individually they each dealt with the awkwardness of Hutch's sharp words to Starsky as they had set off on the journey to the safe house Dobey had arranged for them.

Hutch could take it no more. Moodiness and withdrawal was something each of them dealt with in the other from time to time but being so blindsided by Starsky's irrational behavior toward Riley left Hutch feeling that he had been missing something major here.

Knowing it would be wiser to leave cross examination of a potential emotional landmine until they weren't in a moving car, he had pushed down the need to know for the first hour.

But now – he succumbed to his unease.

Given Starsky's mood he couldn't be sure he would get a response but plunged in anyway.

"So – are we going to talk about this or just continue to sit on it?"

The only response he received, if he could call it a response, was that Starsky looked ahead with an even grimmer look of determination on his face than he was previously plastered on there since they took off an hour ago.

"Starsky? Talk or sit? Because I'm telling you buddy right about now I'm feeling pretty confused about what went on back there with you and my Rookie. Far as I can tell Riley said or did nothing to antagonize you or upset you. In fact he was going out of his way to make everything as easy for us as he could. He's a damn good kid Starsk – so what gives?"

oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOooo

Riley's pinched white face, shock and hurt written over it came back to him now as he recalled the scene at his house earlier.

True to Dobey's word Riley had arrived early that morning driving a late model non descript car.

He had pulled in outside Hutch's place with a black and white bringing up the rear.

Aware that Riley had arrived Hutch threw open the door to his junior officer and invited him for a quick coffee.

He had dragged his assembled gear and some food near the front door and was waiting for Starsky to finish up showering and dressing. As instructed he wanted to be ready to leave as soon as Riley arrived with the transportation and instructions.

It had been a few days since he had seen his young Rookie although they had spoken on the phone to follow up regarding Starsky's medical progress and discharge. So now, as the young man entered his small home Hutch automatically reached out to pat him on the back, welcoming him, affection for the younger man radiating from him.

It struck him suddenly when he handed a mug of fresh coffee to him and beckoned him to take a seat, that in the all the weeks he had been getting to know Riley, that his own partner had never really had one decent opportunity to meet him and to talk with him. For a second his memory hitched on the last time Riley's name had come up in conversation between them. It was when Starsky was still in the Ventura Hospital and Starsky had been uncharacteristically brusque when his younger protégé's name had come up. Just as quickly he pushed the memory aside, convincing himself that it had all been part of Starsky's general uneasiness in the first days following the trauma with Ryan.

He and Riley were going over the paperwork and road maps that Dobey had asked Riley to courier over to them and both of them were looking down at the map, Riley pointing out some landmarks , when Hutch heard movement that signified Starsky had finished up in the shower.

He couldn't deny it but nor could he understand, why he suddenly felt that ominous heavy gut feeling. The heavy gut feeling that Starsky transmitted to him whenever something bad was about to happen with or to him.

_Shit I feel a little sick like….._

The presence of his partner at the doorway was there and he looked up with the anticipation of drawing him into his and Riley's little circle. The gut feeling was way out of place here but as incongruent as it seemed it intensified as the seconds seemed to stand still - Hutch with a broad smile on his face to welcome in Starsky while encompassing Riley with his hand on his shoulder. He embraced his partner with his eyes as he so often did.

Then he saw Starsky's eyes and he knew his gut had not let him down. There was an incongruence in the room for certain, and it took the form of the look of dislike? Mistrust? No – it was more than that - it was disgust and antipathy.

Starsky had mastered the "look" to the point where if he decided to use it, even the hardest perp would shrink and cringe.

Hutch just couldn't understand why the look was being transmitted so pointedly at Riley. Riley caught it, interpreted it, but credit to him he didn't cringe. He pushed his coffee aside and stood. He knew. Furthermore he wanted to circumvent what he knew was coming next – for Hutch's sake more than his own.

He saw the look of shocked befuddlement on Hutch's face and wanted to re-assure him that it was ok. In his mind he said all the things that he wanted to say to put the warm happiness back on Hutch's face.

_…don't make this more than it is…._

_Thanks for the coffee, I'll talk to you more outside…._

_Let's leave this for now….till there's a better time….._

_Hey, I have your trust and your friendship, that's good enough, your partner doesn't have to accept me the same as you do._

But with Starsky there pinning him down with those eyes, he stayed silent.

Although he certainly did not have the highly developed skills of his senior supervisor in reading David Starsky, he knew enough about his and Hutch's relationship and enough about Starsky through knowing Hutch. And so he knew that Starsky was telling him right now with that hardened face that he was hating him at that particular moment in time. He didn't know exactly why, but the intensity of the feeling was so strong that Riley figured it had its roots in deep soil.

Hutch never even managed a word before Starsky's facial expression and body language was translated into words. Once the words were out there was no mistaking his menacing intent.

"So Riley, I've been thinking about you since Hutch told me you'd be coming by with the keys and the car. And - what I thought about was that once you had handed the keys and the car over, which you obviously have, you need to leave."

"Starsky? What the hell? Is this a joke? This is Riley here…..Riley who…."

"I know who Riley is Hutch, probably moreso than you do. I'm sure Ryan knows him better than you do too Hutch."

"Starsky! What is that supposed to mean? Riley I'm sorry I have no idea what –"

"Hutch, its cool, don't worry. Hey, I'll leave. You can call me and we can talk. It – it is best that I leave like Starsky says. I'm sorry Starsky that I'm making you feel uneasy, that I might have done or said something to make you feel that way about me."

"Riley don't be ridiculous. Of course you've done nothing. I don't know why….Starsky what is going on here? None of this is making any sense. Stop this shit now."

Hutch had paled so much that Riley feared his superior might be sick. It was as though, Riley thought, there were just never enough blows that fate wanted to throw at this man who had been nothing but kind and good to him.

"Are you meeting up with Ryan Lancaster after you leave here Riley? Pretty fuckin' dumb of Dobey to let you in on the place he wants us to crash in for a while. How safe are we gonna be there do you think Riley? How long before you let Ryan know our moves? Again."

The effect that his partner's words were having on Hutch was almost graphic as Riley watched the tall blond wither and flinch with each harsh word Starsky was spitting. To see Hutch's reaction one could easily be mistaken in thinking it was him that was being attacked and not Riley. Starsky could undo Hutch like no other force. Starsky's weaknesses, neediness and even Starsky's anger and hate – all of it, any imbalance in his partner was enough to unbalance Hutch equally or even moreso.

"Starsky, please – try to believe me...I don't know Ryan. You can trust that the location of your whereabouts that Dobey has organized is safe with me. Anything to do with the two of you is safe with me."

Starsky laughed weakly and smacked the side of the door with a the side of his closed fist.

"Sure like my whereabouts at the beach house were safe and yet you and Ryan both seemed to know where to find me."

"Starsky I found you too – you know I used Mickey to follow your path."

Devastation flooded Hutch. He could not fathom what was happening between Starsky and Riley.

Starsky was holding up some bent fun parlour mirror to his view of reality so that it appeared distorted and garish and totally at odds with the reality that Hutch was living in. But he was not laughing at the representation. He was blending into it. Fitting his own perception to the images thrown back at him so that nothing was askew in his mind.

"I know that _you_ know Mickey as well as I do Hutch…but how did Junior here know him and how to handle him even if he did? Mickey is one slippery son of a bitch and faster on the take than some fresh behind the ears Rookie. Mickey knows how to manipulate. You just believed Riley when he told you what he did about Mickey? Mickey'd sell his own Mother for a fifty and if keeping his mouth shut with what happens between cops is going to earn him the same , he wouldn't think twice about it. Maybe you're just up too close to this kid Hutch. Maybe you just can't see what ya' need to see. Too long without me by ya' side and ya' gettin' sloppy - takin' chances with people we don't normally take chances with. Not Me and Thee no more hey Hutch? Not since I've been out of the picture?"

For one moment it looked as though he knew he had gone too far. Riley saw the flicker of guilt and regret on his face when Hutch visibly pulled back at the lash of words directed at him. But when Hutch didn't answer he took a calming breath and finished his litany.

"Hey - It's your call – but I'm through looking at your new partner's shiny goody two shoe fuckin' face. Let me know when you're ready to leave. By the way, we can go to my place to get my stuff – but _he_ ain't following us in the black and white. I don't need no kid babysitter watching me and my home. When you've said your goodbyes to Hutch, make sure you take you and whoever is waitin' out there in the patrol car back to Metro with ya'."

With that last acerbic comment he left the kitchen and slammed out of the front door.

"Oh Christ Riley. I – I just don't know what to say. I'm so sorry….he's…he's…"

"Don't say anything Hutch. Don't think you have to apologize for him or what he thinks or feels. He's been through hell, he doesn't know which way is up anymore and everything except you is unsafe and not to be trusted. I shouldn't have come in here – I shouldn't have asked Dobey if I could come and hand over the car and the maps and stuff. This was probably on the cards with Starsky – you said in the hospital he didn't want to see people, just you. He's just holding on Hutch. Don't push him on this."

"Oh fuck what a mess Riley. I wondered why the other day….with you. He thinks….."

"He thinks that Ryan is everywhere and is in everyone. Ryan has undermined everything in his life except you. Give him time, give him time with just you and it'll work out. He's waiting out there for you and if you make this a big thing now you might lose the progress you've made with him so far. You've got to get him up to that house and away from everything so don't argue about this now. He might bail again if you do."

"You're right. Right again Riley. You keep surprising me with how right you are. You're starting to scare me with your insights…" He gave the lightest of smiles to the young man as he once more squeezed his shoulder. "I thought you didn't even know Starsky and yet you seem to have begun to work him out pretty damn fast."

"Hutch, a month with you and I feel like I've known Starsky for years…he's so much a part of you that being with you is like I see and know him too."

"Thank you Riley."

"For what?"

"For not being angry with him. For understanding him, or trying to understand him because at the moment he's hard going even for me. For accepting that I have to accept every part of him, even the 'hard - going' parts. For knowing that he is part of me and that no matter what happens, that will never change. Thankyou for trying to learn what being a partner is all about. You'll make a fine one."

"I just hope that I find what you and Starsky share."

Hutch bent over to pick up his bags as Riley gathered up the boxes of food and other gear.

"I know that what you've seen of our partnership to date hardly fills you with confidence that partnerships are anything but hard work."

"Like I told you Hutch. I think I can see enough to know that what I've seen with the man outside is not the Starsky that I would normally see if all of this crap didn't happen. I see enough to understand why you have what you have with him."

"Well when he's better, when he can trust again enough to get to know you Riley, I hope that you will see the real Starsky, the one that you will say those words about and truly mean. Because I promise you Riley – my partner is worth the wait."

oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOooo


	26. Chapter 26

**Then Neither Can He**

**Chapter 26**

* * *

He tried again.

Nudging past the invisible barrier that Starsky had erected between them inside the loaned late model Ford, Hutch pursued regardless.

He knew it was not a smart idea, but he just couldn't leave it alone.

"Starsky? What happened this morning? Hell, not just this morning, but now I think about it, a few times. No - more than a few times now – whenever Riley appears on the scene or I bring his name up, its as though …"

"Leave it Hutch. Just leave it. Let's just get to wherever we're going, whatever hole in the wall we have to climb into to get away from the motherfucker Ryan and then maybe I can just – fuck I don't know – just start to put this shit behind me. Your little Rookie included."

"Now what the hell is that supposed to mean? What am I supposed to make of that? What is it with Riley with you? This morning you nearly flayed his skin off and all he did was brought over the stuff as directed by Dobey."

"As directed by himself you mean. You ain't tellin' me that that kid didn't want to come pay us a visit? Check up on our moves?"

"So what if he did? He's been my offsider for weeks now Starsky. We've become - well he's become a reliable support and he's a damn fine kid. He's concerned about you, about us – he's in this with us, a part of it all."

"You're damn right he is. He is a big part of it. That's the point that you can't seem to see Hutch. He's crawled so far up your ass you've lost all objectivity with who and what he is. How he fits into all of this shit that has been goin' down with us – with me."

"Crawled up my -? He's my junior for God's sake. He has to defer to me, he has to be trustworthy and reliable –"

"Ain't the same thing as makin' himself your freakin' lap dog. He's got you fooled Hutch, suckered you in big time and you ain't normally someone who allows that to happen. Ask ya' self why and how? Where did he come from? Why is he here?"

"He came from our precinct Starsky and you know that. He was working in Communications when you were under with Ryan. He didn't just - show up. I had no idea – no idea, you felt like this or thought this Starsky. Is this about Riley or this about what you think Riley has to do with what has happened with Ryan? Where is all of this coming from?"

"Look I'm fuckin' not in the mood for a cross-examination – particularly from my partner. So shelve it Hutch, ok? Drop it. Now! I just want to get to where we're headin' and get some head space. I'm ….. just shut up about the kid will ya' ?"

"Ok. Ok…you're right. Now is not a good time to get into this – but –"

Hutch blew out a frustrated breath, trying to keep his eyes on the road while grabbing quick glances at his tightly wound partner. Negotiating the route had taken second place in the last few minutes and now he realized that he had missed a main exit road.

"Ah shit! This isn't right. This isn't right! Where the hell is that map? I thought you were s'posed to be navigating Starsky. We've gone way past where we're meant to be. We should be heading west by now – it's only supposed to be a three hour drive at the most even with traffic. "

"Like I said Hutch. If you shut up trying to give me the third degree and just drive we might just get there before nightfall. Pull over and let's look at that map."

oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOooo

For the next forty minutes the two of them opted for silence. Hutch could feel Starsky prickling, and felt himself worrying and churning. But there was no way he was going to push the matter further until they were both in a more settled frame of mind. He reminded himself that this was in fact what this whole temporary relocation idea was designed to be. An opportunity for both of them to get some distance and some breathing space to begin to shed the entire stink of the past weeks.

To leave behind Ryan and wall him off from Starsky physically so that he could begin to deal with him psychologically.

Starsky needed to heal and whatever had happened with him this morning, whatever had been behind his angry attack on Riley, was all-symptomatic of the festering infiltration of Ryan. Hutch knew that – he knew it intellectually, but still it smarted. Stung him that his partner had taken such a disturbing viewpoint of the one support that he had relied on in the terrible days and weeks since Starsky had come out of that nightmare undercover assignment. But Starsky was right. The very fact that Hutch had allowed Riley in, let him get even remotely close to him, particularly during a time when his partner was in danger, was not his usual way with people.

But Riley _had_ gotten in, under, through his normally armored persona. Very few people got through that armor, got anywhere close to the real center of him.

Only one person had ever done it completely and maintained that position.

In years he had not let anyone else in and in that time he and Starsky had been solely dependent on each other - giving and receiving any support or nurturing that the other needed or demanded in times of stress.

A unit.

Encapsulated.

Tight, singular and closed.

So why Riley? Why Riley and why now?

In those worrying days at the end of the Kalzo case Hutch had never even noticed it happening – that something in Riley, just a fresh-faced kid really, had become a presence to which he was drawn.

And then as the weeks went by and Riley took his side on the streets and then ultimately, was the one to save them from Ryan – Hutch had questioned his existence in his life even less. Riley was - _just there._

Then the small signs from Starsky, that he resented Riley, that he was uncomfortable with him and his relationship with Hutch. It had culminated in his venomous assault this morning.

Starsky harbored a perception of Riley that was nothing like his partner's fond, avuncular feelings toward the young Rookie.

For Starsky, Riley represented so much more.

Something that was wrong, out of place, bad.

It was now becoming clear to what extent Ryan's filth and psychopathy had undermined Starsky's own mental and emotional functioning. The deep hurt, pain and fear of what he had endured in the past month or more was now clearing to reveal the messy sequelae that the trauma had left behind in his partner.

Starsky was angry, violently angry.

Suspicious.

Untrusting.

And most alarmingly, as it was now clear to Hutch - paranoid.

It wasn't just Ryan Lancaster who was the enemy – but anyone and anything that Ryan's world encompassed or overlapped. Riley had come into their lives at the same time as Ryan had – or soon after. His relationship with Hutch was a direct result of Ryan's impact on their lives. Relatively speaking – and Hutch could now see this through his partner's eyes, Riley existed because Ryan existed. But now, for Starsky, it was apparent that this premise was running deeper than just cause and effect. Riley was not just a bi-product of Ryan. Riley and Ryan shared the one psyche.

Although highly perceptive and intuitive, particularly when it concerned his partner, Hutch knew in himself that without professing to understand the complexities of the human mind, he knew one thing was now clear.

In Starsky's mind, Riley being an adjunct of Ryan put the young man firmly in the same mental space as the man who had made his life hell for the past month or more.

By default that made Riley the enemy.

It also put his and Starsky's relationship in troubled waters.

Reality from a traumatized Starsky's point of view meant that Hutch, his best friend, his one constant in his life – was fraternizing with the enemy.

_I should have seen this. I should have fucking seen the warning signs when he never wanted to have him near him in hospital and even the mention of his name had him pulling back. Christ, this is something we have to work out and soon._

He cast another furtive sidelong snapshot of Starsky's profile.

Closed down.

Still angry.

Hutch caught a road sign, recognizing that they were now not too far from the outskirts of their destination.

With a different tactic and determined to cut through the dense wall of pent-up emotion that ran down the center of the car's interior, Hutch offered a suggestion to break the mood and to move them both on from this point.

There would be time and better opportunities than now to go into this with his fragile partner.

"Well I figure we can't be more than ten miles away from this place so might be best to stop at this small township up ahead and pick up some fresh food supplies. From the map it looks like this will be the closest place we can get stuff – what do you think? Do you want to stop or keep going? I can double back out later, but I'd prefer to get there and settle – and well – just chill out."

_Not leave you alone. Not yet. Not till I know the lie of the land and what to expect. Not till I feel confident that Ryan is not going to tail us here. Not that I may ever feel confident of that..._

"How are you feeling Starsky? You up to stopping for a bit to get the supplies?"

Although still remote at least Starsky relaxed enough to consider Hutch's statement and to offer his own choice.

"Yeah agree. Let's get it all done now. Grab some fresh food, some beers then just get there and crash."

With the decision made, Hutch veered off the main road and pointed the car in the direction of the small township.

oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOooo

They were approaching a small general store on a tidy, picturesque street in what appeared to be a tidy, picturesque town filled with respectable looking citizens with friendly demeanors.

"Picture Perfect" sprang to mind and would not have been a misplaced description. The tree lined, golden lit street with no traffic and no noise, begged for superlatives.

An air of quiet and peace wafted from the small proud little shops and houses. There was an abundance of greenery and flora lining the streets, which added to the sense of a town that more rural retreat than urban encroachment. There was an overall sense of melding of nature and progress that was never evident in the concrete, graffiti encrusted, slum filled, polluted city that they had only left a couple of hours ago.

This was not the sort of community landscape the two of them often experienced. At least not in the state they had both lived and worked for several years now.

Starsky surveyed the length of the street and it was obvious from when they first drove into the main street of the township, that the sudden immersion into this pretty town was enough to at least momentarily jolt him out of his dark mood.

"All it needs is some white picket fences with some kids on shiny bikes. So why do ya' reckon Dobey chose this particular place? Heard about it over the years, but never been up around here. Funny ain't it that we live and move around the same area in our lives and never get out to see somethin' like this when it's so close to home? Our jobs just keep us on the same rut everyday – don't get to see what's under our noses apart from street scum and filth. "

Hutch was taken aback for a few moments. Not just because Starsky was finally taking some interest in his surroundings and external world for the first time in weeks, but that in fact for him it was an uncharacteristic statement and observation on life. Waxing lyrical about life and all its shortcomings and positives was usually his domain. Starsky just went through life taking it as it came, matter of fact and happy to experience it. Pragmatic and hands on by nature, only rarely did his partner scrutinize the world and his role in it.

Starsky just "_was"_. Nothing should be made too complicated, nothing would be gained from self introspection or personal debate.

He was the consumer of life - not stopping to philosophise or analyse unless he was in one of his quirky moods; Hutch was the connoisseur and the taster - frequently questioning everything that life had to throw at them in the course of their daily grind.

Although the small town was just as much a gifted surprise to Hutch, he was overwhelming relieved to see that Starsky seemed energised enough to comment on the sights and to think about his own self in relation to it.

For now Hutch was taking it as a positive sign from his demoralised partner and friend.

"I don't know anything much at all about how Dobey got the lead on this place. We'll have to find out. Maybe he figured you'd like a small town setting where there is some civilisation close at hand - like this better than being thrust into the middle of the woods again – like at his cabin. We all know how much you - well - aren't too fond of the outdoor experience Starsky. Got to make sure you are within arm's reach of something resembling urban lifestyle, even it is quaint and small urban lifestyle. "

A light punch in Starsky's arm added emphasis to the sarcasm.

"Shut up country boy. Just because you like sleeping in hay and rolling in pig shit doesn't mean I have to enjoy it."

"You're exaggerating Starsky. I never sleep in hay and the occasional roll in pig shit is good for the soul, don't knock it till you try it."

Both of their faces split into wide grins and the therapeutic value was as powerful as a punch to the guts for Hutch. But in a good way. He only hoped that it had the same visceral effect on his partner.

Hutch moved on, trying to keep the buoyancy of the moment alive for them both, his body slaked with the thirst of such quenching experiences in the past weeks.

"This place even has a small movie theatre and look, a pizza place. God help them….. You'll be down here every night ordering take-away won't you?"

"Depends – maybe they don't know how to make pizzas here in this valley. Guess we'll give them a try and compare. Owe them that at least… One thing is for sure though. I saw what you packed this morning from your kitchen. If I don't find some real food in this store - I will be trying that pizza no matter what cos there is no way I will be eaten' the muck I saw you load into the trunk - and don't think just cos' I'm not on top of my game I didn't notice."

The small lop-sided smile he threw Hutch as they entered the shop, had them both feeling more balanced than they had in days.

Dobey's idea to get them out of the city had merit and Hutch was feeling more optimistic than he had in a long while.

As he pushed a shopping cart along and Starsky began throwing in supplies, Hutch made a concerted effort to push aside the latest concerns about Riley and Starsky. For now he was content to watch his friend, still weak and slow on his feet, but with a glimmer of a buzz back about him – the buzz of the real Starsky. The Starsky that had gone missing for weeks.

Mercurial Starsky.

His explosive and violent menace from hours ago was no longer with him. Instead rapture and boyish joy was dancing on his face as he smiled at Hutch daring him to revoke his food choices as he piled the cart high with his preferred empty calorie foods. Doing what he liked second best to eating his favorite foods. Shopping for them.

Hutch grinned broadly and played his part. Pretending indignation and condescending disapproval of Starsky's choices and immature, inane behaviour. Pretending - when all the time he was revelling in it. The return, even if only for a brief while, the Starsky he had not seen for a seeming eternity.

They had a long and difficult road ahead of them – so Hutch was going to grab greedily with both hands at whatever small offerings of moments like this that came their way.

There would be enough shit going down in the weeks ahead and he knew full well it would be a long time before they would have more times like this than like what they had in the car earlier. What they had this morning with Riley.

"Starsky, when the hell do you imagine we're going to need to even try one of those pizzas? You've got enough crap in this cart to last us through two winters. We didn't come up here to hibernate for Christ's Sake."

"Hey, just shut up and push will ya'…I'm a recovering invalid and I need my sustenance."

oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOooo

She had been watching them since they had first blown like a whirlwind into the shop. She had continued to watch them whenever she caught glimpses of them up and down the small aisles of the small store. It hadn't been hard. For one the town was small, the customer flow infrequent and steady and the shop quiet at this time of day. Two, they were hard to miss and even harder to ignore.

One so tall and, well, almost - she thought - poetically beautiful. His blond hair gleamed white and yellow depending on the play of light on it, the other dark and swarthy with a tight muscular body. A man's man, that's what her mama would have called him. And they were both so comical, fun and witty. Yelling and cursing at each other, jabbing each other in the ribs and tousling over packages and bottles. Laughing and goading each other. Like two school boys. Big over grown school boys with attitude that was in the way they walked, talked and held themselves. Confident and capable. Even perhaps a little intimidating, frightening.

She stopped at the last thought because she wondered where it had come from. There was nothing between them or from them that suggested danger or threat...and yet...?

But it was still there. Something. Different to other guys who came in and out of the store, in and out of the town.

_Cute and funny and yet - hard and tough looking. Like real men._

_And Oh my God...sexy as all hell. Both of them...but the dark one...he was so..._

_Who were they? Not locals that's for sure. Not locals' friends or relatives either - at least not that she knew. So must be tourists – the place was getting quite a name for being a popular tourist hangout these days. And with the amount of food they were piling up, it was obvious that they were going to be staying close, and at least for a few days. Did they have anyone else with them? Girlfriends? Wives?_

She tried to look nonchalant, worldly, interesting and attractive all at the same time. It was a practiced art and one she knew she failed miserably at on most counts - except maybe that she had been told often enough that she was pretty.

They were approaching her now, bearing down on her with their powerful forcefield sending off sparks of energy that she felt were liable to ignite the whole shop at any moment.

She stood vulnerable and excited - two opposing feelings warring in her small frame as they approached her at the single checkout.

The only checkout and register.

She wanted them to come close, to come right up to her so that she could see all that they had to offer at close range. But, at the same time she was intimidated by their dazzling aura - so intimidated that she wanted to run and hide.

Close up and right near her now, she was so overtaken, so displaced by the sheer overpowering force of their combined attractiveness that she forgot her act.

The blond regarded her with the most beautiful and lightest blue eyes she thought she had ever seen. They were captivating eyes and they seemed open and friendly, half looking at her but still with his attention on his friend as he wrestled a heavy box of sodas out of his hands.

"Put it down will you Starsky! Damn it - let me get it, it's too heavy for you. You'll hurt your wound."

_Wound? Was the dark-haired man wounded? Sick? He did look a little peaked come to think of it…but still so strong and tough looking. _

_Oh God they are so damn gorgeous. The dark one is so…._

When eventually the blond one she knew the other had called "Hutch" turned to her and addressed her directly she threw out all pretense and just went with her natural small town friendliness.

_Please don't let me be blushing!_

"So – Hi there. Sorry about this load, but we just seemed to have gotten greedy. Going to keep you busy putting all this through the register. I can pack them – what in a couple of these boxes? Is that ok?"

"Oh yeah sure – that's what they're for….ah ….. Gee….you guys sure seem to have enough party food here."

"Ah no – that's not party food. That is my friend's staple diet – he needs an average daily intake of a pound of sugar and two pounds of fat or he gets rather unhappy, don't you partner?"

The dark haired one she heard him call Starsky, merely shrugged and fixed the blond with his own set of blue eyes, much darker blue than the blond's.

"Like I said – figure I might as well build myself up with something I like than the sh….." He stopped himself mid word when he realised there was a female in front of him. " rather than the the sort of food you like to eat."

_Wound? Build himself up?_

"Oh have you been ill?"

As soon as the words left her mouth she wanted to retract them. Immediately the mood emanating from the two men changed and the dark one in particular lost his small smile and pulled back from the counter as if putting physical distance between her question and himself. It was not as though he had paid her any attention anyway – the blond one had given her eye contact, not him. But now, he looked as though he wanted to remove himself from her proximity entirely.

She stammered, hot and flushed, desperate to make some amends for her clumsy social gaffe.

"Oh how... rude of me! That's your own private business. Look just ignore that – we small town folk always take too many liberties with other people's private information. I'm sorry – really – ah – let me just get these through the register for you."

She dropped a box of cereal and toppled two cans in her haste to divert attention from herself and put her focus back onto her task. But she couldn't help but notice that the man called Starsky had moved even further away again, and was standing off to the side, ostensibly flicking through a car magazine he had grabbed from a nearby rack.

_I have completely blown it! One chance of getting some hot guys to talk to and I've completely ruined it._

The dark haired man looked positively hostile now and her hands were shaking with the threat of his mood.

The man called Hutch was more sympathetic to her distress and seemed to realize she was shaken.

"Hey slow down there…we aren't in any hurry, let me help you sort this pile of stuff out."

"Look Mister – I am really sorry. I think I have gone and upset your friend. Truly, I didn't mean to –"

"No – its ok. It's just that – look it doesn't matter... Hey, nice little town you've got here. Really pretty. "

He was obviously trying to change the subject.

_I really have stuffed it up._

"Yes we are proud of it. It's a nice place to live, good people, quiet. No trouble, not much crime - if any at all."

She noted the almost whimsical look that flashed across his handsome face at her words.

_What? What have I said now?_

She wanted to ask more about them, where they were from, what they were doing here – but now her confidence had deserted her and more than that, something in the blond's eyes told her, as friendly as he seemed, he would not welcome intrusive questioning.

As he continued to pack the supplies up he called softly over to his friend.

"Hey Starsk? You feeling tired? You want to go and wait in the car? I can bring this stuff out – here – take the keys. I won't be long."

The dark haired man caught the tossed keys deftly and seemed relieved that the blond had picked up that he wanted to get out of the store.

The girl swallowed. Mortified.

She had done that.

She had made him want to escape and flee the store.

With the boxes packed and the bill paid, she tried again.

"So are you likely to be staying around here for a while? You guys have sure got a lot of food here."

"Don't really know yet – ah – Katy," he bent his head down and looked quickly to catch her name from her badge. "We're just playing it by ear for now. Just having a break away you know?"

She swallowed - not just a beautiful looking and kind man but one of those rare guys who took the time to actually check out her name and address her as such. A lot of the time customers only wanted to see a name badge so that they could match a name to a complaint to the owner of the store. This guy actually used it to give her a sense of respect and identity - of worthiness.

It made the fact that she had stuffed it all up with her stupid natural curiosity about the dark haired guy's illness all the more upsetting.

"So you boys up from the city? LA? The beaches? On holidays? Lots of people are starting to come here for holidays and breaks from work now. Its so peaceful here."

"That's what we're looking for Katy, peaceful. Quiet."

He had totally evaded her questions - had not answered one of them in fact. But he had remained friendly nonetheless.

"Well that's about it. Should keep us going for a while I hope. We might be back in to try that pizza place – Star – ah, Dave is a complete pizza nut."

"Dave?"

"Sorry – I'm Ken and my friend ," he tipped his head toward the door that Starsky had recently departed through. " Is Dave."

"Oh?"

_Not the names they had been calling each other…._

She brushed over her confusion at the name issue, not wanting to touch what could be another private matter.

"Ken, I am really sorry that I seemed to have upset Dave. He looked a lot happier when he came in here and now I feel as though I have made him feel bad. He looked sort of – bent up about things when he walked out just now."

The blond looked a little wistful, almost as though he too was now feeling bad. She thought to herself, that it was just not her day for saying the right thing at the right time.

"No – nothing you have done Katy. Really. Anyway nice to meet you and thanks for your help and great service."

He hefted three boxes easily into his arms, his big hands and strong forearms easily encompassing and managing the load.

"You don't need some help getting those to the car?"

It was clear he didn't want her to come with him to the car, she knew that.

"Nope. I've got them. But if you could get the door that'd be great. I may be strong, but I have been known to be a klutz in my time too. Don't want to lose the whole lot to the floor."

He offered a final light smile, trying to end the interaction as harmlessly and effectively as he could.

"OK then – there you go. Ah bye than – Ken. Maybe I'll see you and Dave around sometime in the next few days. "

"Sure."

But as his tall frame strode away she got the distinct feeling that there was absolutely no 'sure' whatsoever in that happening. She doubted that she would get to lay her eyes on the sexy curly-haired Dave ever again.

Not unless she went out of her way to make it happen.

_And face it Katy._

_You have not got it in you to make anything happen where gorgeous men are concerned._

oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOooo

Hutch climbed into the driver's seat of the car after having packed the supplies into the trunk.

The keys pushed into the ignition he paused before starting the car up and turned to his partner.

"You ok buddy? You left the shop in kind of a hurry. I think the poor girl thinks she said something really wrong."

"I just hope that we don't run into a whole lot of small town nosy do-gooders who want to dissect the two city slickers who have driven into their town. Just not up for it Hutch. Not up for it…"

"I know buddy. So we'll lie low for a few days before we venture out again. Just give the human race a miss for a while. Is that ok with you?"

"It's more than fine with me. It's exactly what I want. And, look sorry for walkin' out like that and leavin' ya with all the boxes and the girl, but – well – she kept looking at me strangely."

"Oh Starsk….you'll get past this. It just seems right now while all of this is so fresh, that new people and well – other people – are all threats to you and your privacy."

"It doesn't seem like it Hutch – that is the way it is with me. Don't want anyone around me, near me –"

Hutch's question was soft now.

"Does that include me too? Are we in a bad place together too now? Last night everything was fine. Until this morning and then–"

"Don't. Don't lets bring his name up again Hutch. I don't want to talk about Riley. Of course you and I are fine. That's the damn trouble – everyone else just makes me want to – well I just can't seem to deal with other people. Anyone else but you. I'm sorry about that poor girl – but that is how I feel."

Hutch turned on the ignition and then patted Starsky's leg lightly.

"She'll live. Sure she has all sorts of grumpy tourists dropping in to the shop – coming here to this mystical valley to find inner calm and meditative peace. Looks like it could be an old hippy hangout that's been tarted up to look trendy."

Starsky smiled at that.

"I think you could be right Hutch. As long as you don't go putting flowers in your hair while you're strumming that guitar of yours, or start wearing peace signs around your neck - otherwise I'll be heading' straight back to the big smoke."

That had Hutch snorting with soft laughter and with the buzz back between them - offering up another brief respite from pain and anger, he accelerated away in the direction of the property's address they had been given.

"But Starsky - "

"Yeah?"

"Just for the record. That girl in the grocery shop? She wasn't looking at you strangely – she was looking at you with admiration. I think she was more than taken with you Starsky. In fact I know she was. See even in your most glum moods you drag the women in with your magic."

Starsky remained unmoved and unaffected by his partner's assessment of the situation back at the shop. His reaction was low-key and non-committal and he brushed off what might have normally been a lead into another long bantering session of the respective strengths of each one's masculine prowess. If Hutch had thought he was going to evoke some further indication of life and energy out of the unusually reserved Starsky, he was left sadly bereft.

The most his comments elicited from his friend was a vague shrug and a head turned to look out at the passing landscape.

Starsky was never one to turn his back on a chance with a pretty girl, nor to so strongly misconstrue what had been very positive body language thrown his way by the opposite sex.

It was going to take a long time to find the way back to the "norm" of David Starsky.

oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOooo

They had been at the house for less than an hour.

Arriving at the secluded and impressively stylish and comfortable house settled behind high private walls had been as much a surprise as their discovery of the picturesque small township they had found earlier.

Little was said between the two of them as they climbed out of the car and did a visual reconnoiter of the property and then both walked slowly around its perimeter, noting its layout and position in relation to some of the other similar adjoining private properties. The house was well spaced from its neighbours but not so far that it was isolated, just comfortably positioned ensuring privacy and quiet from the main road and other people.

It wasn't a big home but what there was of it was sprawling and the gardens were large and abundant, filled with small fountains and green oases.

Starsky looked at his partner and smiled.

"Your sort of place Hutch."

Not a question as he knew full well the garden would be a draw card for his green thumbed, nature loving partner.

The interior of the home was equally appealing. Comfortable and warm, well-worn and inviting its open living room with a huge fireplace and two big lovingly worn Chesterfields and lamps immediately drew the visitors in and swallowed them up.

Starsky took no time in planting himself on the largest couch and propping a large cushion up behind his head.

"Man this is some sort of couch. I just need a cigar now."

"Yeah well if it gets chilly enough and I can find the wood supply, I think that Fireplace might be the way to really set off this room. God what a lovely place. How the hell does Dobey have a connection to get this sort of home?"

In contrast to the brash modernity of the ill fated beach house where both had also voiced a similar thought about how Mickey had attained access to the exclusive property, this home was far more in keeping with both of their preferences for a living space.

He smiled now at Starsky spreading himself out with feline grace on the big soft couch and thought that already he looked more relaxed. Atmospheres were important and he was literally stunned that they had been given an opportunity to be have this offered to them as a quasi "Safehouse".

Starsky agreed with Hutch's observation.

"Damn good question. Not the usual sort of joint we get given to hide out victims or ourselves during jobs. Looks like some sort of holiday home doesn't it?"

"Yeah. Look you wait here and I 'll get the car unloaded and we can check out the rest of the house. Need to get all that food in before some wild animal raids the car and eats it all."

Hutch just couldn't resist a quirky raised eyebrow to go with the tongue in cheek suggestion of there being a chance in hell of a wild animal skulking the perimeter of the home.

"Don't think I don't know what you're trying to do Hutch. This ain't nothin' like Dobey's cabin and I'm not fallin' for the wild animal line. Wait up – I'll come with you and we'll unpack together. I'm not the invalid you keep treating me as."

Hutch relented – he did need to back off some with the referencing to Starsky's state of health. And so even if in his own eyes his partner already looked like he'd reached his level of restricted activity for the day, he resisted the urge to agrue the point.

"Then come on then. But remember, this is the valley – lots of mountains and hills above us so if we do encounter a wild beast, don't think I'm going to help you run for it seeing you think you're fighting fit."

He ducked the well-practiced and anticipated cuff to the back of his head as they pushed each other gently out the front door toward the car.

oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOooo

For yet another time Hutch found himself on the phone with his Captain while Starsky was not in the room. He felt like he was making a habit of this surreptitious communication with his superior in his partner's absence, though this time the call had been placed by him merely to get the matter out of the way and to let Dobey know that they had arrived.

By the time he was finished the conversation however he was well and truly thankful that it had in fact taken place while Starsky was in the shower. The content of what Dobey had to tell him was going to be monumental news to his partner as he had been to him and he needed some time to prepare himself to deliver the news. He was still trying to digest it himself and work out whether it was something that he welcomed or rejected.

In the end however he knew Dobey's directives were warranted, necessary and no doubt inevitable.

He just hoped that Starsky would take the news so philosophically.

He just hoped that Starsky would take the news at all and wouldn't end up walking out on him once he'd heard it.


	27. Chapter 27

**Then Neither Can He**

**Chapter 27**

* * *

The view to the outside was like a magnet to him. He was drawn to the large bay window and then was caught there, held by the sprawl of the slightly unkempt, overgrown garden, its simple beauty and natural calm. So very different to the view from any number of windows he was used to encountering back in the city. The riot of colours and the cool backdrop of the velvety green lawn was soothing after weeks and weeks of drab neutral and grey shades of concrete and glass. Weeks of being on night duty seeing an already lacklustre urban landscape through muted night light.

He might as well have been in another country or at least another state, not merely a few hours north west of the dirty streets he and his partner normally patrolled. The distance he and Starsky had travelled this morning seemed more than just physical - it was as though they had moved themselves into a different psychological space, not just land mass. Well that's at least what it was like for him.

But he couldn't be sure yet about Starsky. For a long while now it seemed, too long, he hadn't been sure about Starsky's deepest feelings.

An unusual state of affairs for him.

For the first time in weeks and weeks – further back than that even - for the first time since "Forrest" , he was aware of a sense of inner calm and low internal static. His brain was starting to idle and his muscles were beginning to lose just a little of their overstrung tautness. His hand strayed experimentally to his forearm. Surprisingly for once in God knew how long he was happy to see that his hand was not interested in reaching for the much abused skin on his forearm. He let his arms drop loosely to his sides as if it prove it to himself and was pleased to feel that the arms behaved themselves and remained where he had dropped them.

Was he kidding himself?

Was his body kidding him?

His mind kidding his body?

Maybe not one solitary thing _was_ actually better...

But still...

Could this simple measure – coming to an isolated haven with just his partner and no one else be enough to start the process of moving on from the horror of the past month or more?

Not enough, no, but the start? The beginning to some sort of healing time for him and his partner?

_Perhaps, maybe._

_Depended._

Before he knew he had to have a much needed talk to Starsky. A talk that was going to have to be the first of many talks they would need to have if they both stood any chance in hell of putting Ryan and all that he represented, behind them both.

First of all, he needed to tell Starsky about what he had just learned from Dobey during their phone conversation.

Hardest of all – he had to get Starsky to listen to it all, to see reason and to not run as he knew - because he knew his partner – Starsky would want to do.

The hurdle of telling Starsky filled his head and looking down again he sighed heavily at the realization that his traitorous hand had once more reached out to the opposite forearm and had begun its slow, rhythmical rubbing.

Disgusted in his actions, and convinced now that he had in fact been fooling himself about the transient calmness he thought he was finding, he dropped his hand with a hard jerk.

He turned to find what he knew would be behind him.

He'd felt more than heard his entry but was only now really aware of it on a conscious level.

So much of what they shared happened on an unconscious level. As though there was always two levels of communication tracking between them. One covert and hidden from anyone else, not able to be deciphered by anyone else except themselves.

Starsky was watching him intently from his place where he sat lazily on the big couch, his curly hair still damp and his eyes more alert than they had been in days.

"So is this where you tell me about that long call you had with Dobey while I was having my shower? Is there where I get to find out why the garden is suddenly so interesting that it warrants you to stare at it for a full five minutes without moving? Is this where you are going to say what the tough part of the call was about, the part that made you begin to go for your arms again?"

Hutch although not surprised by his partner's acute perception, had the grace to look just a little shocked.

"So you got all that just by seeing me standing at the window?"

"I get all of you all of the time Hutchinson and don't you forget it. Just because I might not express myself quite as fully as you, or as eloquently - doesn't mean I don't know what's ticking in that head of yours Blondie."

"I've never doubted that buddy. Not ever. Ok then – yes. Dobey had a lot to say. Some of it you aren't going to like when I tell you. Can you promise me just to listen first – don't judge, don't find exception with it? Just hear me out and then we can talk about it. Are we in agreement on that?"

He was up off the couch in a split second, wound or no wound. Hutch winced for him. When Starsky wanted to move, nothing stopped him. Pure anger flashed across his features as he grabbed Hutch by the upper arm.

"You're not gonna tell me….don't tell me that those fuckin' IA dicks let Ryan keep his badge?"

"No. Shit. Sorry for not making that clear from the start. Relax...easy. No, that's not part of it. Well at least as far as the information Dobey has so far. He's only heard from Dobson, hasn't had the final report back yet from Michaels and Barker. But , well thank God it looks like Dobson didn't go into bat for Ryan. He called for Ryan's resignation – which he got almost straight away. Don't know all the details yet – but it seems as though the IA boys offered to play sweet with Dobson if he gave Ryan a hefty push out the door. If he handed in his badge he got to walk away with this pension privileges and any employment service money owing to him. Guess it also means he got to keep his name clean. But – he's gone Starsky. He's gone. Out of the force and away from you – from both of us. He's far from happy and that's a problem. But then it's pretty damn obvious he wasn't going to be happy to give up being a cop."

Starsky deflated and fell back to the couch, relief and anti-climax mixing with sudden pain - his legs folding from under him.

"You seem to keep forgetting you've just got out of hospital don't you Starsk? Sit down and stay down will you? Are you ok? Want something for the pain?"

"No...it'll pass. It was worth it though to hear that the bastard isn't going to be in the Department anymore. Shit! I thought you were gonna tell me something bad there for a moment. Mind you I'd have been happier to see him get ousted than have him go voluntarily. This way he gets to keep his name and cred as a cop. "

"Perhaps, but we both know how the Department works Starsky. Won't take long for word to get out about why he's walked. We'll know more soon, but I think, they wanted him out as quickly as possible and without having to use background information to nail his ass. That extra smut on him would have had to come by digging into Dobson's staff records. Don't think Dobson wanted that funnily enough, nor did the Department want it to come out. There was a lot more stink then we'll probably ever know surrounding Ryan. I don't think you were the first cop to get zeroed in by him though I damn sure you've been his biggest highlight and the one who didn't just walk away and let his Captain cover the damage. "

"I should be so fuckin' honoured...I am the first one too who had a partner who wasn't about to let him get away with what he was trying to do to me. No other poor dumb officer would have had that to help them deal with the sicko."

"Trouble is Starsky, I didn't stop him from getting away with what he did to you at all did I? In the end, I couldn't even help you."

"Hutch, if I'd only listened to you from that first night you tried to talk me outta goin' under with him...you tried and tried. Did everything but turn yourself inside out to make me see reason. Goin' to that beach house, and takin' off in a rage like that because you went to Dobey for help...well all my own stupid making. It was my singular most insane decision of my life. Worst of all I drew you there too because I knew you'd come lookin' for me. So I endangered you as well as myself."

"Starsky... " He faltered trying to find the right words for this situation where they were caught up in their own guilt trips. His partner's distraught face was a study in remorse and it was clear that he did not hold the monopoly on ownership of self blame and flagellation. "You did what you had to do by leaving, going to ground. I just wished you could have talked to me about it first so that I could have...got there sooner to be with you."

"That was the whole point Hutch - I was punishing you for going to Dobey. Well I achieved that didn't I?"

"We can't change what's happened, only how we deal with what's happened. That's all that matters anymore and that's all the control we have now. For now, the most important thing is he's gone. Handed in his gun and badge probably while we were driving up here."

"Yeah well that don't mean Jack. Handin' in his gun only means he'll have to take a little while to secure another. I'm sure Ryan has as many leads and sources on the streets as we do Hutch. He could already have another gun by now - maybe already had a few."

"Dobey's going to put a surveillance unit on him for at long as he can swing it."

"Good for him. He should do, given he's taken your Magnum and my Baretta's long gone with my suspension. Should have kept the one from Mickey stashed away for all the fuckin' good it did me with Ryan at that beach house."

Hutch wanted to reassure his partner with a quick retort.

_We won't need guns Starsky. We're out of jurisdiction and he's not coming here. He doesn't know where we are._

But how could he say any of that when he was not even convinced himself?

What was the point when Starsky would know immediately that it was all hot air and would throw it back in his face.

Truth was he didn't know what to say about it and was deeply concerned himself about a back-up gun issue. He wanted to push it with Dobey but knew that this would only put his captain in an invidious position when IA had made it clear that he too and not just Starsky, was under review before returning to active duty.

_So they were here, a safe-house of sorts, but with no guns and Ryan was now off the force and no doubt brimming with violent revenge. He was being watched - but still..._

He hadn't realised he had turned back to look out the window lost in thought, his forehead creased in its perpetual line - the grooves deeper, a tell tale measure of the depth of his worries.

"Only been here a short while and already the famous 'Hutchinson reflection on life' has begun. You sure don't waste time usin' the blond head of yours to think hard about everything. See anythin' outta that window that'll solve all our problems? Or are you just gonna keep takin' out our shit on your arms?"

Hutch smiled sadly as he looked down at his self abused forearms. He couldn't see the skin beneath his shirt sleeves, but he knew it would be red and inflamed.

"You're right. You know, I think I was doing ok with the whole addiction thing until ….all of this happened to you. Now I've realized I've got to get on top of it all before it takes me under again. I've finally got to admit to myself that I need to do some real hard work to get past all of this. Get past what I – what I had to watch you go through Starsky."

"You mean lookin' out the window at the garden ain't gonna do the trick for ya?"

"Don't."

"Don't?"

"Don't try to make light of something that is so important for both of Starsky. Don't try to push all of this away with a 'Starsky Quip'."

"So what do ya' want me to say then Hutch? Huh? That you're right. That being tired to a chair and forced to watch me get fucked over by Ryan on every count hasn't fucked you in the head? Don't you think I know that? Don't you think I don't know what it must have been like for you? Feeling powerless and tortured by watchin' me get …..by seein' what he did to me?

Fuck even I got to miss it, cos my mind just couldn't take it, so I just wasn't there. But you…. You couldn't go anywhere could you? You were forced to stay and watch the whole show. I'm not making light of this Hutch. It fuckin' kills me to think about it that's all. Most of all I keep thinkin'...shit...we wouldn't even be standin' here now, having this conversation if Riley had shot to kill that night."

"Oh no ...don't say that, don't go there Starsky. Please."

"You don't wanta hear it? Don't want to hear the truth Hutch? Riley had him cold. All he had to do was put a bullet in his chest. Why did he just wing him? WHY HUTCH?"

"You know fucking why Starsky. Riley is a cop. A junior cop. He was scared, uncertain and even then he did well. He took Ryan's measure and brought him down."

"Took Ryan's measure? What crap! He knew Ryan and everything Ryan was going to do that night. If he really was the 'scared and uncertain' rookie you say he was, then he would have blasted Ryan away with fear that that fuckin' monster might have taken us all out in a second. That is exactly what a junior, inexperienced cop would have done Hutch and you know it. He would have busted into that room, terrified, shittin' his pants and when confronted with what he was confronted with he would have slammed a bullet into Ryan out of sheer knee jerk fear. And it wouldn't have mattered in any enquiry because it was all the same in the wash - Ryan was armed, Ryan had his gun trained on Riley and had the two of us trussed up like turkeys. He didn't shoot to kill him Hutch. He didn't shoot to kill. Work it out for yourself."

"Starsky I was there. I was conscious. You weren't. I saw and heard what happened. He handled it well. He picked his moves and followed through just like I taught him."

"Just because I wasn't conscious then doesn't mean I can't piece it back together now Hutch. I am a Detective for God's Sake! And for all the damn good teacher that I know you are, I'm certain that experience would have counted for alot more in that situation. It was a split second decision, and Riley didn't have the experience to deal with that or to work out the mechanics of his moves."

"So you're angry because Riley didn't kill Ryan? Is that it?"

In an instant Starsky's fists balled up and he ground out a deep throated response to Hutch's succinct question.

"You're damn fuckin' right I'm angry because of that. Do you know what Ryan would have done to you Hutch as soon as he was through with puttin' on his little sick show with me as the starring role? He would have put a bullet in you Hutch. He wouldn't have had a seconds thought of doing that to you. Maybe not me - no. I am his quest, his freakin' play thing. But you - he hates you and he wants you dead. Once you had lived to watch him do his worst to me, you were finished. The whole time I was lying there I kept thinking that - that he was gonna turn on you. I'd given up tryin' to stay together. I tried..but it was just too much and in the end I just went under. Somehow I wasn't really there anymore and when I woke up...fuck my first coherent thought was that... I was sure you'd be dead. Killed by Ryan."

Hutch's voice was soft now, trying to placate the rising anxiety in his friend's voice.

"But I didn't die. I didn't...because Riley arrived and he saved us both. You should be so happy with that. So very proud of him for doing that. I am. He saved you and I can never thank him enough for that."

"You see it that way. I see that he risked your life Hutch. He risked Ryan turning that gun on you and blasting you to pieces because he'd finished with me. Riley did his bit to look like he tried, but it was orchestrated and understated. "

"But Riley might never have come at all and then what? If Riley had wanted to help Ryan, why not just stay away?"

"Because he didn't know that Ryan was ok. He knew you had followed me there - that you'd found a way to track me down. He knew you were coming to try to help me or warn me. He had to get to Ryan too when he found that out. And...he knew exactly where to find Ryan and to find me. Just like he'll no doubt know where to find us again when he lets Ryan know our whereabouts now."

"Starsky, believe me when I tell you, Riley has no communication with Ryan. Riley will not inform him of where we are. You've got to trust me on that, or being here will be fruitless."

"Well we'll soon find out won't we? This time with no guns, we won't be putting up much of a fight for anyone. Riley won't even need to come and back him up."

"Do you seriously think I would have agreed to bring you here like this if for one moment I thought Riley was involved with Ryan? Think about it Starsky. Think about it. Would I ever, ever knowingly put you at risk? Ever knowingly allow someone to hurt you? Particularly someone who already has done so already. Already hurt you so much already?"

"But you ..." Just for a moment Starsky looked confused, uncertain. Hutch's words had him off guard and he faltered as he tried to keep the conviction in his gruff, but cracking voice. "You agreed to come here because you believe him. You believe Riley. I don't."

"Even though I do, I would believe you more and trust your judgment more...no matter what. But not with this Starsky. This is not right. Your thoughts about Riley are mixed up with your thoughts about Ryan because they both came along in your life at the same time and ... the worst of it I realise now ...is that Riley took your place and I was forced to leave you alone when you were suspended. So you feel nothing but pain when you think of him. I see that now and I understand that and I hate that I didn't work that out well before now...but with so much else going on with you. But - it still doesn't make your perceptions of him right."

"Maybe its your perceptions that are distorted and not mine. Didn't you wonder that night too why Riley never gunned him down when he had the opportunity to get that sickfuck out of our lives for good When he had the perfect opportunity?"

"I've told you - no. He acted like a trained cop. Like a good cop. Not like a vigilante."

_Not like I would have wanted to act if I'd had the opportunity. Not how I would have acted if that'd been me busting into that bedroom to find Starsky laid out like some animal for Ryan to savage and tear apart. I would have blown his fucking head off. I wouldn't have given him a chance to move, or so much as blink once more. One look at Starsky on that bed and if it had been me who came in with the advantage over Ryan, the forensics team would have been scraping Ryan off the wall and ceiling for days._

_"It's a promise. A very special promise just for you Ryan. It's only a matter of time. Time. When that time is right for me, I will come to you Ryan. I will come to you and I will kill you. Nobody or nothing will stop me from doing that, from keeping that promise to you. The only thing that will save you from me killing you is if Starsky choses to do it himself."_

He recalled the venomous words he delivered to Ryan as he sat wounded outside the bedroom of the beach house and knew that not one ounce of the intent of that threat had diminished for him.

The image played in his head as he baited his friend with the leading question that he would be just as well to ask himself. A question that he didn't really need to ask himself for he knew with certainty that Ryan's demise was foremost in his mind every waking minute since that moment at the beach house. The poison of his homicidal ideation was draining his reserves and he could no longer be sure how long he could hold himself at bay against the insidious call to act upon the recurrent fantasy. If he didn't get help soon he feared he would slip into a place where thoughts and fantasies would become action and finality.

In truth Hutch knew he needed to come to this safe house as much for a security measure for Ryan as for themselves.

_Did you want Riley to kill him Hutch? Answer the question yourself Hutch. Would you have preferred it? Of course I would have preferred it! I wanted him dead! Dead._

_You wanted him dead Hutch?_

_No - I want him dead. Never to touch Starsky again._

But he had to keep that from Starsky.

For so many reasons. For now it had to be enough that he had Starsky away and safe from Ryan.

And so he asked his partner instead. Part of him trying to understand how Starsky was drawn to suspect Riley, part of him trying to understand if Starsky had wanted what he himself so badly had wanted. Ryan's death.

"Is that what you would have preferred him to act like Starsky? A vigilante? This is why you believe Riley is with Ryan? Because he didn't kill him?"

"There's a lot more to it than that any you know it Hutch. I've told you...you've just overlooked how it is because you've let Riley get under your skin."

Starsky had not answered his question and immediately Hutch regretted posing it to him. It was too much to put in front of him now; he needed support not to be dissected psychologically when he was still so raw.

Hutch closed his eyes, weary from Starsky's overriding paranoia about the young Rookie and the circular arguments. He realised that to delve any further into Starsky's feelings about Riley was counterproductive to the rest of the discussion that he still had to have regarding Dobey's phone call.

Sick in his guts about Riley, he closed the door to that room in his head. This was an issue that Starsky had to resolve for himself on his own with someone else. His fears for his best friend's distorted perceptions of Riley versus his own gratitude to the young man in question, were warring in his head. It was obvious that with him being the apex of the triangle he could not help with this one.

All he would achieve by pushing the matter would be to drive a wedge between him and Starsky. He didn't want wedges. Bridges were what he was trying to build here. Bridges and knocking down walls that has sprung up in the past weeks.

Emotional engineering.

Riley's name and spectre was just going to hamper any progress on the work site so he was determined now to leave his young trainee out of the discussion.

He needed to change tactics to move forward and leave this dangerous ground behind.

"And what about you Starsky?"

"What about me?"

"You think that just living, getting on with life and pushing all that Ryan did to you down deep and only trusting me, only letting me in, will make it all go away for you?"

"Works for me Hutch. If we can just keep that mad fucker away from us and get on with our lives ….."

"Starsky! It doesn't _work_ like that. Not even for you who I know hates to get down and dirty with soapy scenes. Human emotion and minds don't work like that. You're going to keep getting railroaded by memories and flashbacks like you did in the bathroom – over and over. How strong will you have to be to keep dealing with those? How much of that can you take before you're worn down by all of that?"

"Don't see that I've got a lot of choice in the matter Hutch. I can hardly dictate what my memory does to me, how my mind works. Besides, I got you to get me through those rough patches. I trust you Hutch – only you, no one else can help me. Nothin' else I can do about it…"

"Yes there is and I've already mentioned this to you."

"Hutch don't say the "T" word – you know its not me. You know that's not my style or how I like to do things. I'll work this out in my own way. Don't want Therapy, don't need it. I've got through stuff before, I can do it again."

"Yeah? Then how the fuck do you think you're going to do that hey? "

"My way – the way I like to deal with head space shit. You know me – you know I don't have to explain that stuff to you."

"Oh, you're right I know you Starsky. But this is big. Real big. This isn't just getting shot at in an alley, or threatened at knife point, or seeing some kid or woman killed in front of you. All that is bad enough. Horrific for the average person. But ok...we're streets cops. We have to take that shit as part and parcel of our daily job description. But this is more, more than all of those things. This has gotten right down inside of your soul. More than all of those other horrific incidents that you say you _haven't_ needed therapy or counselling for in the past. This isn't going to be solved by sitting on the couch with a six pack. I know that's your favourite treatment for so much of the trauma we experience in our jobs."

"I wasn't necessarily thinkin' of downing a six pack on the couch as a form of treatment ...partner."

"Oh what then Starsky? Enlighten me as to your other ways of blotting our reality and healing. Oh yes - there are other techniques I've seen you employ in recent weeks. Like going to a bar, getting slammed and then picking a fight with the bar's biggest bruiser so he can pulverize you into oblivion and then you won't be able to think anymore. And the other one – you excelled at this one...getting slammed again but this time finding a very young flirtatious girl in a bar and taking her home to find that you lost control of your –"

"Shut the fuck up Hutch! I was …that was when I was feelin' low…I lost control for a bit – when I was feeling - "

"When you were feeling low? Then how must you feel now Starsky? That was how you dealt with the things that Ryan had done to you BEFORE he raped you for Christ's sake. He RAPED you Starsky. Beat you and raped you and its not going to hurt less by just shoving it to the side. And as much as I'd like to think it was in my power Starsky, as you seem to want to believe, it's not going to get better by just having me close to you twenty-four seven and not letting anyone else close to you. "

Up and off the couch again, Starsky paced up and down in front of it.

"Why are you doin' this Hutch? Why are you trying to push me into a corner here? You want a fight? Is that it? Are you angry with me for what I said about Riley? Are you angry at me for putting you in a position where Ryan made you do what he did to you? Made you watch me get raped? You angry about that? Are you pissed off with me for doing that to you? "

Hutch moved forward reaching out for him, his face aghast at Starsky's words. But Starsky pulled back, burned by his own words, burned by hands that hadn't even touched him. Hutch dropped his hands away, seeing the hurt in the dark blue eyes.

"God! Starsky NO! NO! You never put me into any position – hear yourself! Listen to what you said. Understand what you're thinking about yourself Starsky. None of this, none of it - is your fault. I can't be angry with you for what you think about Riley. I want to be...but I know that you can't help how you're thinking about everything that has happened to you. You are the victim. You. You Starsky. I know that you hate to be a victim - you most of all because you are so independent and strong. But that doesn't change that you _are_ the victim in this situation.

I just want you to realize that. To acknowledge that – and then to allow yourself the opportunity to _stop_ feeling victimized. To shed the victim role and reclaim your self. I don't want to push you into any corner. I want to get you out of one. You need support Starsky. You need professional help and therapy. And you need it soon."

"So you won't help me get through this? I said that you are all I need, you are the only one I trust…and you are passing me up on this?"

"Starsky, I'm not – I'll never pass you up. I'm here now and always – but, I'm not enough for you. Not enough by any means. I haven't got the answers or the skill to help you through this one friend. This one is bigger than both of us and anyway, I'm down too. Waist deep in the shit that we've been subjected to by Ryan. We both need someone to haul our asses out of the mire that we're in. "

"You got through Forrest, you got through that Hutch. You can get through this. You can help me get through this too."

"No, no I can't Starsky. No I can't. It was you who got me through Forrest, and lets face it when all of this happened I was barely out of the woods. Now this ….all of this with Ryan…

Starsky I will be here always. We'll go through all of this together. But you can't ask me to be something I can't be here for you. I can't deliver anyway. Already today I've probably fucked up your mind even more with half a dozen attempts to sift through all of this crap between us. We need to both get professional help. Dobey will never let you back on the streets and I don't even trust myself to go back with the way I feel. I've no intention of letting you stay off the job Starsky. It means everything to you. So that means only one thing. We need to show the Department that you've, no , that _we both_ have done the work. Sorted out our heads, so that we can get our badges back again. You want that. I know you do Starksy"

"Of course I want it. It's my life. "

"Then you must agree to the Therapy sessions – however... long that takes."

Something in the way Hutch stumbled a little over the last words had Starsky's eyes narrowing.

"So are we now getting to the part that I might find "exception" with, the part where I just need to "hear you out". Spill it Hutch. What else did Dobey have to tell you that has you looking like you do? If this ain't about Ryan then it has to do with what we've just been arguing about - seeing a shrink, havin' Therapy. Am I warm? Hutch? Is this about - Therapy?"

"Yes."

"Yes. Yes and... Yes and so...I'm waiting patiently here Hutch. Standing and waiting. I haven't run for the door yet. So give it to me straight. If you don't hurry up and get this out I swear you're gonna pass out from holdin' your breath in. "

A particularly breathy exhalation by Hutch who rubbed a hand over his forehead, proved Starsky correct.

"Dobey has requirements for our stay here and they come down the line - directly from the Commissioner."

"The Commissioner! Since when the hell did we Plebs ever attract the attention of the Commissioner of Police? Well, no, don't answer that one...but for this? For my mental well being? That's a bit hard to swallow. Maybe Dobey is just tryin' to lay it on thick to get his point across."

"No apparently not. This whole saga with the IA and Dobson, the nineteenth precinct, ours and of course the involvement of the Ventura PD has the Commissioner's closest attention."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning that he has told Dobey that he does not want to see your career jeopardized by Ryan's doing and to ensure that you get back on track and fit, he wants to make sure you get a solid course of treatment before resuming work."

"And he doesn't mean a course of antibiotics does he Hutch?"

Hutch had to smile at that.

"No - I don't think that would help too much with things."

"I don't know - Ryan is pure filth and shit, so I reckon, drugs to kill off his germs is a damn good idea."

"Well we can get those too if you think it'll help but -" Hutch's smile faded " He wants you to agree to have a full three months intensive - and up to 6 months in full, sessions with a shrink." He rushed out the last phrase in one quick whoosh and then promptly looked at the point above Starsky's right shoulder avoiding the sight on his partner's face. The look on that face that he knew would now be there as the impact of his words sunk in for him.

Hutch waited for the resultant bang.

"Oh is that all? Three months of sittin' face to face with some stranger who knows shit all about me and shit all about what happened to me. And I'll want to tell him, or how is it that these people talk...share with him, yeah - share with him shit all or even less about anything."

"Either way Starsky, Dobey has made it a stipulation and that comes via the Commissioner, that you have to have a minimum of three months of shit all with a shrink. And if it makes it any better I am going to have my own shrink to talk to as well. But maybe I'll find more to talk about than you, as I have some pretty scary demons running around in my head. I really welcome the chance to - to deal with ...what happened in that room that night Starsk. What happened when I couldn't help you. Couldn't save my best friend from the worst nightmare of his life. From the worst nightmare of my life. Couldn't do anything, not one fucking thing except scream out...couldn't..."

His voice, jagged and tight caught in his constricted throat as eyes brimmed.

"Hutch...Don't please..."

Starsky went to him now as Hutch had done earlier to him, but as he was about to put his arms around him, it was Hutch's turn to back away. He held up his hands so that the embrace that his friend was just about to encompass him in, was warded off.

"Starsk, I... oh shit...see. See what a mess I am? I need this. I need this place, I need to be away and I need someone professional to talk to and to help me make sense of all of this. It's not enough for you to just put your arms around me or for me to do the same for you...not this time. "

"It was always enough in the past."

The recrimination left Starsky's lips before he could hold it back and hurt them both.

"And it will be again. But now - now I'm scared, scared Starsky that if we both don't work this out it will be the end of us. Not just our jobs but of us, of our relationship. Ryan has gotten into our relationship, into our minds. We need help to get rid of him. Someone other than us. A third person, neutral parties. "

"Hutch, guys get raped all the time. It has happened all through the ages. Men get through it eventually just like women do. We don't all need a long course of psychotherapy to make it disappear."

"It'll never disappear Starsky. No matter what you do...but it can get better. And not all of the victims get through it as you say, you know that as well as I do for Christ's sake. We've met enough of them in our job. More than enough. And we see only a small part of what it does to their lives and then we move on. Lots don't do well and I'm sure most never get over it completely. I don't want you to be one of those statistics. We're so close, that if you don't come out of this, then neither do I. And I'll hate myself for not being enough to make you ok. And if you're not ok...then I'm terrified that you'll just slowly wither away because if you can't be a good cop, than you'll...I don't know. Fade out, lose your Starsky lustre ...wither. You won't settle for being a second rate cop. That just won't cut it with you. Good cop or nothing. That's all you've ever wanted to be."

When the moments passed and Starsky said nothing, Hutch spoke again.

"I've decided to do what Dobey wants Starsky. I've decided to agree to his terms. I'd like you to agree with me. I'd like you to decide like me, that this is want you want too. To get back to who you were before Ryan took you apart, and for us to get back to being enough for each other - so that next time something happens to either of us, then - well our strength and power of what we share as friends will be enough to pull us through."

"I see."

"You see? Is that it?"

"What else?"

"What do you mean what else?"

"What else is there that you have not told me? This is getting pretty tiring here Hutch. Feeding me bits of Dobey's phone call line by line. What am I? Some sort of freakin' cot case that can't take the pressure. Just lay it all on the line. So let me help you here seeing that you are struggling with getting all this off your chest.

We have it established that Ryan is off the Force. Somewhere out there in space, but gone from the Department. We are here - supposedly hidden away from him, with no guns, no jurisdiction so it's just as well we are freakin' hidden. We have Ryan being watched by some units - big deal - means little and you know it, but hey, its better than nothin' so I'll take it.

Now we have the Commissioner telling Dobey that he's not lettin' me within a mile of my badge without me havin' first to agree to a minimum - a MINIMUM of three months fuckin' shrinkage Therapy. ...some for you too. But I feel there is more? You still got a look about you that has me thinking that if you don't tell me you're goin' to crumble under the strain. So? What else?"

"This is the Commissioner's own holiday house."

Of all the things Hutch could have said, that one could not have shocked him more.

"Huh? What the fuck? You mean to tell me we are using the Commissioner's holiday home for a safe-house flop?"

"Starsky, I don't think safe -house and flop go together."

"Why?"

Starsky wasn't asking why the words didn't go together and Hutch intuitively skipped over his last statement and went straight to answering why the Commissioner of Police had offered up his own abode for the two of them.

"Because the Department doesn't have anything else suitable on short notice for such an extended period and the Commissioner wanted us moved somewhere safe for now."

"Extended period doesn't match with the word 'now' Hutch."

"No." It was an agreement not a question or a contradiction. The fact that they were both playing a game of semantic table tennis had them both feeling more normal inside their respective skins than they had in weeks.

"No 'extended period' means..."

"At least three months, maybe longer if necessary. "

"Three months, maybe longer..."

"Yes."

"And this is the Commissioner's own joint and we are here to have a nice little holiday - oh of course I get it. Our shrinks are up here somewhere aren't they? Out of Bay City. Away from the rumour mongers and away from the boys in the squad room who might ask questions if you were still around the city while not being at work. So maybe...you're on a job somewhere else...undercover? Away for an unspecified period. And me? I'm still suspended of course...so maybe I've gone away to? ... New York to see the family, to stay a while until my suspension gets revoked. And we're being given all of this special treatment because...? No don't tell me Hutch. Let me see.

Because the Commissioner wouldn't like to see the shit hit the fan about what has happened in his Department with all of his top boys being involved. Scandal and hellions throughout the Department. The IA, the Captains, three detectives, a rookie...shit even another PD is involved in the mess. A fuckin' psychopathic homosexual detective runs rampant in two precincts. One of the Captains has been covering for him perhaps - for years...

No wonder he wants us to undergo therapy. He's freakin' terrified I'll pull the pin on it all and spill the shit about what has gone down...which I could be pushed to do in my maddened emotional state. "

"Well Dobey never said all of that Starsky, but I think you've about summed it up. Pretty much what I 've concluded too. But with a difference."

"Yeah?"

"The difference being...I don't care if this is partly being set up because the Commissioner is worried about the BCPD. And even if he was, I think he's gone a bit beyond his call of duty to offer up this place to us for that amount of time and to provide two private Therapists for us each to work with. The difference is...I want it. I want this time for us, for you and for me Starsky. I want you better. This is our chance. Do this and in three months or so we could be back in that hot rod of yours doing what we do best. More than that...I want our old life back. I miss it. I'm sick of watching you like this, living in the shadow of a man who came back into our lives to fuck us both over."

Starsky appeared to be mulling over his partner's words, but his head was down and it was not clear to see whether he was becoming emotional overwrought by Hutch's declarations or simply angry.

"Well I'm tired of watching you too."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. I'm tired of watching' you look like you're always waiting for the other shoe to drop. Like something's about to go wrong. That I'm not ok, and that any moment I'm going to shatter or break apart. It's as though...fuck I don't know. Like you're on guard all the time. It's as though you don't think anything is going to be ok ever again."

"Maybe that's how I feel Starsky. Explains how I do feel I guess. I hate it too. So we're even. I hate watching you like you are and you hate watching me and I hate myself too. No.

We're not even then. I've got one up on you. I'm in a worse state than you. So I need the Therapy sessions more than you do. "

"No. You were right the first time. We're even...I hate myself being like this too. Sick to shit with myself feeling like this."

"Then good."

"That's good? You think its good that I feel like shit about myself? Thanks friend."

"Yes. Because when you get sick enough, tired enough, fed up enough, angry enough...you'll do something about it. And the quicker you do something about it...the quicker I get you back. The real David Starsky. I told myself last night and I'm telling you now. I want you back. All of you. I'll take what I have now, but in the long run, I want you all. The whole deal. Even the parts of you that drive me insane - your eating habits, your driving, your inane sense of humour, your quick temper, your cockiness and smooth talking flirtatious moves with the ladies...I miss them all. I want them back and soon. I...don't think I can go on to much longer without them...Don't tell anyone I ever said that though. I've got an image to maintain. I need to preserve my condescending edge when it comes to the two of us in public. "

The glistening eyes mitigated his caustic attempt to hide his sliding control. None of which was missed by his partner who had a moisture level in his own eyes with which to contend. In the process Starsky was trying to stay planted to the ground and not move closer to his his blond partner who was by now flailing with pent up emotion.

"So you figure that sittin' in some plush chair somewhere in some beige-on-white room facing some bored lookin' shrink, two to three times a week is gonna bring me back?"

"I can't say for sure. But it's worth a shot at least. Anything that might bring you back - is worth a shot."

"And you'll do this too...for me?"

"No...for me. I want to do it...for myself. I need to do it. I'd do it anyway. Whether you walk out of that door now and don't come back. I'd still do it. At least then I might find some peace from what I have in my head now. Some peace from the anger and self recriminations I have about what you...went through."

"Christ... Hutch."

Starsky's voice was soft and shaking, his throat working convulsively to hold back a torrent of tampered down emotion. Swallowing again he struggled to hold his ground.

"Yeah, say that again. Maybe he can help too. The more the merrier. I don't care. I just want you back Starsky."

"Three, four months here is a freakin' long time. I might go stir crazy."

"We're not trapped in the house every day for God's sake. There is a community out there. We've just got to lie low and not go to far afield or back to Bay City."

"It's a big ask Hutch."

"I know. But I'm asking. I know its not for you. I know it'll wear on you. I just ...hope it'll help. I wouldn't ask otherwise."

"What about my car?"

Hutch choked back what had started as tears and quickly reverted to a snort of laughter, when his partner began with his precious petulant act. He knew of course that it was Starsky way to divert them both from unconstrained blubbering...they were both that close.

"The Torino doesn't get to visit you Starsky. It's a red flag as well as a red eyesore you know that."

"Take that back now Hutch. "

"Ok...your Torino is a red flag."

"Asshole."

"Child. Wanting your damn car!"

"Ah but you can have your precious guitar with you I noticed."

"Come on ...hardly the same. My guitar doesn't scream out "Starsky and Hutch...Detecitives from BCPD".

"What about your plants?"

"They'll live. I'll get Huggy to take care of them. And our places. And your car, bills, other incidentals. He can keep in touch with us and maybe visit somewhere else from time to time. Not here. "

"What about Riley?"

The mood that had been so promisingly elevated crashed through the floor and Hutch all but felt the vibrations. But Hutch was determined to hold onto to the closeness that had finally drawn them back into a tight, trusting unit.

"We'll take that one slowly. I will not contact him. You have my word on that Starsky. I'll let Dobey know not to let him try to contact me in any way until...if ...you change your point of view. I'm not going to do anything you're not comfortable with or feel ready to deal with ok? Riley is a new friend. I trust him. But you don't. Nothing or no-one matters more to me than you Starsky. I can deal with Riley in another place at another time. Right now...I'll do nothing that will jeopardise you getting over this, so we can be "us" again. Do you trust me on that?"

"Never didn't trust you Hutch."

"Starsky, you know you just kill me with those double negatives."

"Well there...you see. Maybe we don't need therapy after all. I'm getting back to my old annoying self and you're getting back to biting just like I knew you would."

"You didn't know that was a double negative till I just let on to you ...don't try to make out you did that on purpose to goad me."

"I did."

"Crap. You had no idea."

"You've got to stop thinking you are the only brains in this outfit Hutchinson. I might just prefer to hide my bushel under the light."

"Now I _know_ you're goading me you smartass."

Like I said Hutch...three months is a long time. We gonna do this? We gonna be able to pull this off with out killin' each other?"

"We'll we have no guns...so it'll have to be homicide by some other means."

"Hutch, don't worry about it. Give me two weeks in that shrink's chair and I'll gladly top myself."

Even yesterday that comment would have had Hutch reeling with anxiety. But right now it fitted like a glove into their repartee and he took it as it was meant.

A joke. Nothing more.

Starsky was joking again.

He went with it. Filled up with the simple joy of them being themselves again.

"Well that's good news."

"What? That I'll want to top myself after sitting with a Shrink for two weeks straight. Nice."

"No - good news that at least you've agreed to do two weeks of Therapy. We can try for three months if you live through the first two weeks. I guess that's something we've achieved after this marathon effort this afternoon."

"I don't know about achievement. I'm still feeling hurt that you rejected my attempts to give you a hug just before. Claiming that my particular form of therapy was no where as good as some snotty nose Shrink's. I don't call that achievement ...I call that failure."

Hutch bent quickly to look into the deep blue eyes and was just fast enough to catch the teasing glint in those depths before Starsky covered it deftly with a false hurt look. Nonetheless he thought it wouldn't hurt to play along and call his partner's bluff.

"Oh Starsk...Starsk...you know I just...was trying to make an academic point. Of course your hugs are essential therapy. And they are always essential to me. In fact - I'm in dire need of one right now. Is it still up for offer?"

A splutter of laughter signalled that Starsky knew he had been caught out.

"Ok Blondie. I know when I'm being played. But...come here anyway. I just happen to need one as badly as you do."

In a mutually fierce grip, they remained locked together for a long while, slowly rocking on the spot while squeezing hard backs, ruffling hair on napes and inhaling the familiar smells. Their own form of therapy. Neither seemed prepared to pull apart and break the transfer of energy that they shared and drew out of each other. With their faces pressed into the others shoulders neither had an apparent inclination to shift from that comfortable, nurturing position.

"Hutch?"

"Yeah?"

"I won't break ya' know. Its a surgical wound - that's all."

"Just don't want to hurt you."

"Hutch?"

"Yeah?"

"Are you...you're not...? You are! Hutch?"

"No...no I'm not...well...maybe just a little. I'm just ...happy I guess that we've got somewhere. Worked some things out together."

"So... happy tears?"

"Yeah, Starsk... happy tears."

"Good...then that must be what mine are too."

Finally they broke apart and smiled broadly at each other.

"Well Hutch...here we are in our "Therapy" Home. That's what I'm gonna call this place. Our Therapy Home. Like it?"

"Great Starsky. Just...um...great. Got a nice ring to it. Perhaps better not to refer to it as that down at the local Pizza shop. People might take it the wrong way."

Oblivious to any rational, level headed input, Starsky lost none of his enthusiasm for the rekindled mood of optimism.

"So let's see ...what's first on the agenda for our first afternoon in our Therapy Home Hutch?"

"I need to think on this one for a while..."

A heavily orchestrated pondereous expression was replaced with an incredulous lightbulb flashing moment.

Hutch clicked his fingers to dramatise his revelation.

"OK. Ok...I've got it Starsky. Lets get a beer...make that a six pack. A six pack and the couch can solve a shitload of problems."

"But...you said just before that..."

"Starsky, that was before. This is now. We can start our real therapy tomorrow. We deserve a rest before we start don't you think?"

He threw his long lanky frame across the length of one of the Chesterfields and plumped at a cushion while toeing off his boots.

"You're damn right I think we do."

Starsky quickly followed suit, melding more carefully into the contours of the other Chesterfield.

For a moment they both looked at each other, neither of them moving from their respective cosy seats.

And then Starsky crooked his mouth into his most beguiling smile.

With exaggerated staggered movements he hobbled over to the couch where Hutch was eyeing him suspiciously, one blond eyebrow cocked in recognition of Starsky's blatant affectation of the walking wounded.

"OK... God that was hard but I managed that. Ain't that nice? I was too far away over there on that big couch. So...ahhhh...just let me put my legs up here and...pass me that cushion will ya' Hutch? Oh, and another. Oh jeez, sorry that leaves you without one. But oh wow, that feels better."

"Does it? Glad to hear it Starsky because you've got your legs all over my part of the couch - the couch where I was just starting to feel better too."

"Yeah but what's the point of getting comfy when you've gotta get up anyway?"

"Get up? Why have I got to get up?"

"Hutch...now who's forgotten? Remember, I just got out of hospital. I'm still an invalid. We need the beers - our home therapy juice. "

With deliberate slowness Hutch executed a move to carefully unfold his partner's legs from where they were crowded on top of his him. Disengaging himself he stood, huffed, and walked toward the kitchen mumbling a complaint that sounded very much like...

"He's coming back already. Maybe I'm not as ready as I thought I was for his return."

"What was that Hutch?"

"Nothing Starsk - nothing. Just stay comfortable and get your rest."

He opened the fridge door and peered in.

"Oh - By the way Hutch, I put the beers in the spare fridge out in the garage, not the kitchen."

"Of course you did. The garage that is not attached to the house and across the lawn."

"Hey don't worry. I'll keep your place warm. Make sure you bring in the six-pack. I do my best self- therapy on a nice warm couch with a six pack of beers. But who am I talking to? You know that already, don't you Hutch?"


	28. Chapter 28

**Dear faithful readers and followers of **

**_If I Can't Have You...Then Neither Can He._**

I want to tell you this before your eyes pick up on the word starting with "E" below...too late I'm sure they already have!

This part of the story is now complete.

I know that many of you did not think this story was going to finish here and yes many of you will be thinking..."What? Why? Huh?"

But let me explain.

This is a saga and a half and I guess when we (Brook and I started this and Tabs came in along the way too) we had no idea that Ryan was going to shape this story up like he has done. We've all spent so many, many hours producing this story for ourselves as much as for the world of S and H FanFiction, and loved every moment of it and all of your wonderful following along.

But it's been one tough time for our boys, particularly Starsky and in the spirit of realism I am making an executive decision and giving them a well earned break in "Therapy Home" as Starsky calls it and time to regroup. God knows they need it.

When we visit this story again hopefully the time away from Ryan, the Department and all of the drama that has befallen them, will have allowed them to heal.

The saga will pick up as Part 3...yes a Trilogy as only a good saga can be and we will soon learn what has transpired in the intervening months.

In the meantime I hope you enjoy our new story. As I said once before, writing Ryan full time with no diversion is hard work, so Only If His Eyes are Blue will be a break away from his dark spell.

Unfortunately for Starsky in this other stand alone story, he is once more the centre piece for evil musings. Poor Starsk! Why must we writers all give him so much grief? Actually I personally blame it on the Muses, not the writer. I muse all the nice stuff for Starsky and cringe at the thought of anything remotely bad happening to my beautiful Hutch!

Please don't be too angry or upset about the end of this story...after all the best is yet to come.

And to those suspicious readers among you (re review comments)...as Freud might have said...

"Sometimes a garage across the lawn is just a garage across the lawn."

In fact that bit was put in to purposely mark the beginning of the return of the old Starsky...quietly delighting in sending Hutch on an extended errand at his bidding. We all know how Hutch will do anything for Starsky when he is remotely incapacitated and Starsky was testing him out as only he can do. I feel bad that I had some people thinking that danger was waiting out there for Hutch.

Have I made you all so paranoid about the evil Ryan that you think that he is lurking behind every scene? I guess I may have. Well that is the nature of the beast that is Ryan Lancaster.

But then, just as well you are on guard, because he hasn't finished yet.

Once more thanks for your incredible interest and loyalty.

Keep enjoying _all_ of the wonderful S and H fan fiction on this site and other sites and encourage writers to keep producing so that our favourite two men will live on and on and on. Without constant involvement and interaction of readers with writers we will lose writers and that is just too sad to contemplate.

All writers in all Fandoms write out of the generosity of giving pleasure to others - gratis - and to experience pleasure in creating and sharing. It's been said many times before by others before me, better than I will phrase it here, but I will say it again on behalf of every fan fiction writer out there. Please let us know you want it, like it, think about it...or it will no longer be there for you to read. And, won't that be a sad day.

I want to say thank you to the incredible S and H authors who have created wonderful stories since the Fandom began and right up to the Now. Let's keep the talent developing and the interest bubbling.

Here's to keeping this Fandom alive and kickin' !

**Kerry**

* * *

**Then Neither Can He**

**Epilogue**

* * *

"So Officer, are you clear about the new arrangements for your partnership? You can finish the rest of this week off finalizing any outstanding reports you had with Sergeant Hutchinson and be on standby for any call outs where someone is down a partner for whatever reason. As of Monday you roll with Sergeant Mathieson. We'll see how that goes for both of you but I don't expect any problems. He's only recently been promoted to his Sergeant's position and I think will be happy to work with someone else quite young."

_But of course he isn't Hutch and I know that's what you're thinking as you sit there and look at me so solemnly. Sorry kid, but I'm afraid your time with Hutch as a supervising officer is over - at least for the foreseeable future. When Hutchinson next steps back into this squad room I know he fully intends to have Starsky back by his side._

He hadn't meant to add it or to voice anything about his thoughts but the look on Riley's face had him compelled to offer something at least.

_"_Well he's not Hutchinson, and not as experienced of course, but he's got plenty of fresh ideas and lots of energy - a bit like you. It'll be valuable to get different perspective from different officers. Remember you wouldn't normally have had the opportunity to be partnered up with Sergeant Hutchinson if... well if his own partner had not been ...indisposed. "

Dobey eyed the young man in front of him, once again struck by the difference in this man and the young fellow he recalled quite clearly from down in the Communications Centre a couple of months back. His time with Hutchinson had honed something discernible in him young, or pulled something out of him – something that probably wasn't ready to be there yet, but circumstances had prematurely hastened its arrival. Officer Riley was a cop. No longer a tentative, self-apologetic, deferring rookie – but a cop. Not quite a street cop yet still, but the foundations were there. The foundations had been laid down by the mentoring he'd received from Hutchinson – instilled with a solid belief and confidence in himself and what he had to offer the world. But it was not just the engendering of confidence and self-conviction by Hutchinson and the opportunity to walk beside the experienced blond Detective that had transformed this young man. Dobey was more than aware that his baptism by fire at the hands of Ryan Lancaster had pushed Riley face first into self and professional actualization. Hutch had laid the groundwork; being thrown in the deep end of the cesspool Ryan had created had hastened the developmental process.

Riley had come of age – far too quickly and far too dramatically. Youth and adaptability were on his side, but that was not to say it would always be like this. He was ahead of it for now, on top of it. But Dobey with all his years of watching how his own men and his colleagues responded to trauma, knew that Riley would need some catch up time eventually. So far he doubted that Riley had stopped long enough to allow his mind and emotion to align with what had been demanded of his body and what his role as a police officer had forced upon him that night at the beach house.

Dobey suspected that now he no longer had the support and guidance of his supervising officer and that Hutch having been sequestered away from him, that the full impact of what he had gone through with Ryan Lancaster would begin to leave rise to the surface.

"I just appreciate the opportunity sir - the opportunity to stay here at the Ninth. I really want to remain at this precinct and I know you've had to juggle some things to make it happen."

He didn't need to say it but Dobey knew full well it was the words behind the sentence that carried the full weight of Riley's declaration of gratitude.

Riley wanted to retain a place in Hutch's unit and he was thankful for his Captain to have taken the time to swing it for him.

Dobey's next words were calculated, careful.

"You'll miss working with him won't you?"

It was beyond even the new tougher Riley not to blush to the deepest shade of red.

"Yes sir. He was a…..a wonderful mentor and a friend to me as well."

Dobey raised his eyebrows to the top of his deeply furrowed and sweat sheened forehead and quipped out of the side of his fleshy mouth.

"Well he's not dead Officer Riley."

A shocked expression from the young officer had Dobey smiling behind his cupped chin.

"Sir…I….I meant to try to say…."

"Save it. I know what you mean. But you're sounding like you're reading out an obituary. Unfortunately it may not be possible for you to have any contact with Hutch over the next few months. As you are aware the aim of the seclusion is to keep Ryan Lancaster out of their lives and to allow space for Sergeant Starsky to ….. to recuperate. I know this is hard – it was I believe also hard for Hutch to have to ask me to tell you this Riley. Very hard as he does value everything you did for him and Starsky in taking Ryan down that night."

Dobey coughed, clearing his throat as he often did before he had to convey news that no one wanted to hear.

"Anyway…Hutchinson, Hutch has asked me to let you know that he won't be contacting you nor does he want you to attempt to contact him. Not until he lets you know that the situation has changed. I need that request reinforced as an order Officer Riley. I won't have the opportunity to sort out this whole damn mess with Starsky and Ryan jeopardized in any way. Are we clear on that? No contact."

Was he surprised to see that the young man didn't even raise an eyebrow at Hutch's directive? Riley was one step ahead of him again so it seemed. The kid had really grown into a harder version of himself in literally weeks. His one word response said it all.

"Starsky?"

"You know I'm not going to comment on that Riley. These are my two men. I'm doing my best by them and that doesn't include exploring what motivates them on a personal level with other officers in my unit. Am I understood?"

"Yes sir. I understand. Sorry sir. It was reflexive. I will not initiate contact with Detective Hutchinson whilst he and Detective Starsky are – away."

"Ok then. Good. Well then that's all Officer Riley. I'm sure you have some reports that need typing and some backlog administrative paperwork that I need before the week is out?"

"Yes sir. I'm sure I do. Thank you for your time and the offer to get partnered up again and stay in your precinct. You know I am keen to aim for my Detective exam in the future?"

"Well keep up the good work son and you're well on the way."

He was at the door when Dobey gave another of his distinctive coughs. Riley turned already having learned that the cough signaled a parting word or statement.

"And ah….Riley? I'm glad you can understand the reasoning behind Sergeant Hutchinson's request for you to remain incommunicado with him. I'm sure he wouldn't request it if it wasn't absolutely necessary."

"Thank you sir. I do understand, and ….thank you for saying telling me that. It makes me feel a lot better sir. "

The big black Captain grunted, nodding in understanding_._

_The hell it does. __Can't fool me kid – you're hurting that's obvious._

But then the boy knows Hutch well enough by now to realize that there is nothing he wouldn't do for Starsky; even if that meant shutting out someone he liked himself. What was interesting was the fact that Riley too showed selflessness in his mirroring of Hutch's actions. He would do what Hutch wanted if it meant making things easier for his new friend. Even, if it hurt him in the process.

Now why did this young man's unconditional loyalty remind him so much of his two best officers who were going to be out of action for the foreseeable future?

oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOooo

"Is this real? A mirage? My partner communing with the outdoors and at one with nature? Better come back inside Starsky and let me check your temperature – got the first aid kit inside. I've got a feeling you're running a fever. Or perhaps I did the wrong thing in cracking open the beer when you're still on the mend."

"Smart mouth. I can tell you where you can put your damn thermometer and I can damn well decide when and if I'm ready to have a beer. Anyway I'd hardly call sittin' in a chair under a tree in a garden communing with nature – Nature Boy. It's not like I'm riding bareback through the hills or baling hay in the fields – ha! Not like what you'd be right at home with doin', Minnesota Man."

"Long time since I've done either of those things and don't think I'll be doing them for a long time again. My back couldn't take the baling and - my ass couldn't take going bareback."

"Your ass or another part of your anatomy?"

Hutch spluttered and handed his partner the other beer he had carried out for him.

"That part too – or should I say those parts. Hey I came back out from the phone call with Dobey and you were gone."

"What? Did you think I'd done a runner already? Headed for the hills – literally? Any attempts at escaping by foot will have to wait until I can move a bit faster than the speed of a geriatric. No…just thought I'd explore the compound. Besides the amount of time you spend on the phone with your Cap'n these days, I need to find something else to do with my time."

The lightness fell away as quickly as it had sprung up between them. Suddenly wary again Hutch took a seat on the two -seater opposite, leaning forward and trying to make direct eye contact with a pair of eyes that were focused hard on anything but him. He waited and watched Starsky as he steadily rolled the yet untouched beer can between his hands.

"_My_ Captain? And that is supposed to mean?"

"What it means. Your Captain. Not mine Hutch. Unless you've forgotten I am no longer under his command – dishonorably discharged, de-badged, and off the streets – way before Ryan packed up his desk and walked out the door of the nineteenth."

"I haven't forgotten that you're suspended – _temporarily suspended_. And Dobey's as much your Captain as he ever was and is mine. Don't go and get all moody on me here partner. We were doing so well – we were – we were getting back to some place where we should be back to Starsky. Look I'm sorry about the rash of phone calls to Dobey, but I'm thinking and tell me if I'm wrong here, that you would rather not be the one to deal with all of this right now. He just needed to know ….. if …."

"Yeah, yeah. He wanted to know if you'd delivered me the death knell that we were both going to be trapped here for the term of my natural life and whether I'd grabbed the car keys and bolted out the door as soon as I got the picture."

"Three months, four maybe, is hardly the term of your natural life you dramatist – and yes, he was concerned that you were ok with the proposition of the therapy, counseling – treatment – hell I don't know what we should call it."

"I could tell you the word I have for it but we won't go there."

Hutch smiled.

"Oh I can imagine you've got some good ones and I am only hoping you spare the Shrink those colorful descriptions."

"Depends."

"Depends on what?"

"Whether 'It's' a He or a She and if it's a she – what she looks like? Maybe I'll fall in love with her like all those shows and movies in Hollywood make out happens with patients and their Docs."

"Transference."

"Huh?"

"Transference. That's what it's called. Natural part of the deal when you undergo psychological treatment – the patient always develops a sort of crush on the doctor."

"Is that so? You are a font of facts Hutch. Don't know where you manage to cram all of that shit in that pretty blond head of yours. Well I'll let you know what I'm going to do with that your theory when I get my first look at the good Doc. If she's has a bun, coke bottle glasses and hairy legs, there'll be no transferring anything between the two of us on those couches. Nothin'. "

"So if 'It's' a she and she's built and gorgeous, we can expect something is that it?"

"Well if she gorgeous and I'm healed up enough and all my parts are working well enough for ….. 'Whatever'….and there's a couch…closed doors and an hour of my time…what else do we need?"

"Good. So glad we've got that settled. I feel so much better now about your mature and dedicated attitude to starting with some sessions next week. Don't know why I was worried."

They both smiled, each taking the time to swill back some beer.

"Starsky?"

"Yep?"

"We're getting there aren't we? Even these deep holes I keep walking into that you throw on the ground for me and me for you whenever we're not doing so well because of what has happened…we're climbing out more quickly and getting back on track again aren't we? I feel we are. Aren't we?"

It was an obscure analogy where half of the explaining was unspoken and only translated somewhere in the unsaid words between them – a typical exchange of their own unique language. A typical conversation for a pair that shared a very untypical form of communication.

Starsky didn't look for expansion and Hutch didn't attempt to it. It wasn't needed.

"Yeah Hutch. I can feel it too. Therapy Home is probably what we need – both of us – right now, and just in time."

"I want you to know that I let Dobey know that I didn't want Riley to contact me and that I won't be contacting him either. Not while we're here. You have my word on that Starsk. Not if it makes you uncomfortable, feel unsafe or …..for whatever reason. I won't do it. Ok?"

"Ok. And…"

"And?"

"Can we just leave Riley out of our conversations, out of the picture…for now at least."

"If I slip up and mention him, just ….. I just don't want to stuff this whole chance to get this over with, get this behind us. You've got to know how much I want this gone from our lives Starsky."

"You and me both. God, Hutch, I'm so fuckin' tired of the 'me' I've become since ….the day he walked back into our precinct."

"So let's look forward to the day that will come sooner than you realize when we both walk back into that precinct and bitch about reports and early starts and back to back shifts. When you are 'you' again and same for me."

"Well I never bitch about the reports Hutch, so technically that's not true."

"Of course you don't bitch about the reports you Turkey, that because you never _do_ any of them. I do the lot and always have done."

"Yeah, well who picks you up every morning and drives your sorry ass into work so we're both not late."

"You might drive me in, but you hardly keep us from being late…..if I didn't phone to wake you up three out of four mornings when I get back from my run we'd never get there till ten! "

"Shit! What a crock. If we relied on that rust bucket of yours we'd never get anywhere in the mornings…."

"Starsky."

"What?"

"We've got at least three months to bitch and argue. Lets save some for later and have another beer instead. "

oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOooo

Dobson let himself into the main doors of the squad room, choosing to pass through the work room on his morning entry rather than accessing his office as he usually did through the hallway door. It was still early and the often frenetic activity of phones ringing, type writers clacking and conversation being tossed across the room from officer to officer, had not yet reached its zenith.

The two staff who were at their desks looked up in surprise as he entered, expecting he was sure, to see one of their peers and not him push through the main doors.

How long had he been making a point of not passing through his squad room? He tried to recall when he had first gotten into the habit of avoiding the coalface, preferring to summon his officers to his own room.

Another difference between him and Dobey. He caught a mental picture of the big dark Captain with his ample behind perched on the corner of one of his men's desks as he shared a laugh or a joke with them.

Never been his style though. Or had it? He had the distinctly uncomfortable feeling that he was deceiving himself and that up until the atmosphere in the squad room had become tense, he had in fact once been more a part of it.

"Hey morning Captain. Is there someone you're looking for? Jacobs and Rollings are down in Records if that's who you need."

"No - no. Just arriving in fact. How's it going with you two? Any issues from that case you've been putting in extra hours against now we're down an officer?"

"Thanks Captain but we've got it covered now. There's been a couple of developments..."

"Well let me get my messages sorted and then I'll be out with a coffee and we can go through it together. Alright?"

"Out? You mean you don't want us to come in?"

"No. No - I'll pull up a chair out here, catch up with the other officers too when they come in."

Preferring not to have to notice their shared looks of disbelief he looked away and across the room.

He hoped that his eyes didn't betray him but he sensed at once that the two men followed his gaze to the empty desk and cleaned out work area in the corner.

The area that had long been the domain of Ryan Lancaster.

With a smile and a relaxed breath, and feeling freer than he had in over a year at least, he brought his eyes back to the men and nodded. He saw at once in their own faces the same relaxed look.

The unit was one officer down - minus one higher ranking Detective Sergeant. The other officers were having to cover the man power until a replacement could be groomed from lower down the ranks or pulled from another precinct. Allowances had to be made and for the moment it meant his men all had to do a few more hours to compensate.

It wasn't just him who found the inconvenience a small price to pay for Lancaster's empty desk.

He knew it , saw it when the news that Ryan had handed in his resignation first registered with the other officers. He could feel it now, and it wasn't just because the room was largely empty. The squad room had a different atmosphere.

The crackle of tension that normally pervaded this room was gone.

It wasn't just him who found it easier to breathe.

Everyone was free of the toxic stranglehold that one man had held over a precinct, and not least his Captain.

oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOooo

No Torino. But no one home either.

Somehow he thought that the owner of the Torino was not with his car. No doubt it had been garaged elsewhere.

No sign of any life and it didn't take him long to work out that even if he sat there, parked way back from the building, that no one was going to come in or out of Starsky's place.

He was gone.

And he certainly wasn't at Hutchinson's place either; where the situation had the exact same feel to it.

Both of them were gone. Long gone.

Had to be that they'd be moved – gone to ground somewhere. The cop in him could almost sense the air of permanence about the unoccupied residences.

Four times at four different hours of the day over the past three days he'd been back and the same emptiness awaited him, the same absence permeated the air, the same gut feeling assailed him.

This was an organized move, a strategy organized by not just Hutchinson, but also the Department.

The skin crawling on the back of his neck told him before his eyes told him.

They were back again.

He laughed to himself.

Might just as well park his car right outside Starsky's driveway because not only had his presence been spotted, it had been anticipated.

The car was already in the side street waiting for his arrival.

A different car to the one that had been tailing him for the past three days. The one that was on his tail only fifteen minutes after he threw a piece of paper into Dobson's in-tray that heralded the end of his career as he had known it for nearly a decade. He had thrown the boxed contents of his locker in the trunk of his car and drove out of the Nineteenth for the last time while the remnants of his identity as Detective Sergeant still cloaked him. When he'd walked out into the precinct's garage with his pocket lighter minus his badge and his body free of his gun harness.

Careful not to adjust his rearview mirror or look too long at its reflection, he cast a furtive eye at his side mirrors. They were there again as he knew they would be, letting him know that they themselves were not trying to remain undetected. Sometimes it was a black and white, sometimes an unmarked car, but each time the message was clear.

They were following him and not bothering to conceal the surveillance.

A threat.

_Try it – we're here and we have you scoped out. Try to find them or track them down and we're right on your ass. Feel us breathe down your neck and cramp your style._

No doubt Dobey would have also organized a Restraining Order on him within hours of his resignation being made official.

He pulled out from the curb and drove slowly away, never giving the satisfaction that he was agitated by their hovering proximity.

Let Dobey waste all of his valuable resources on tails and surveillance teams.

It would start to pale on him and the brass higher up after a while and the order would filter down to pull back on the wasted manpower and units.

He knew better than anyone how fiscal rationale overshadowed decision-making in the city precincts.

There was an allowance for everything, even the time and money spent on the favored two of the City's Finest.

Dobey would have to pull them off his back before long and in the meantime he was happy to help them squander their time and energy on a futile exercise traipsing around behind him all over the city.

He was after all a man of leisure now and with his new found freedom and a certain leeway with his financial security – he was more than happy to give them a run for their money.

He had all the time in the world.

A world filled with anger, resentment and the omnipresent simmering of cold hard rage.

And he had Hutchinson and Dobson to thank for it.


End file.
